Chronicles of the Secret Service (12 page)

Karen uttered an exclamation, as his eyes fell on Sonia Hardinge’s vanity case lying on the floor near the couch. It had fallen there and been overlooked. Being an evening bag, it contained only a compact, lipstick, a handkerchief and a purse containing a couple of pound notes and some silver. The Russian poured the money into his hand, eyed it reflectively for a few moments, then, with a smile, crossed to the sleeping tramp and, searching among his filthy garments, pushed a pound note into one of the safety-pinned receptacles. This act seemed to afford him a great deal of satisfaction. The rest of the money he pocketed, as well as the purse and vanity case. Turgenev came back to inform him that all was clear. The two then lifted between them the man who was apparently in such a deep slumber, carried him from the room and the house. They paused at the front door for some time to assure themselves further that there was nobody about to observe them. Satisfied, they crossed the deserted square to the garden, propped him up against the railings, and left him there.

Cousins waited until he was certain he was alone; then opened his eyes. He had been placed at a point equidistant between two lamps and in the deeper darkness thrown by the shadow of a large tree. He grunted with satisfaction, knowing that it was impossible for him to be seen, unless someone approached within a couple of yards of him. He felt fairly certain neither Karen, Turgenev nor their comrades would pay any further attention to him. For his part, he could see the house and car quite well, there being a lamp in the vicinity. Watching intently, he saw Sonia Hardinge carried out, followed a little later by Anstruther. The Russians almost ran from the house with them, in their haste to get them stowed quickly in the car before a policeman, or a belated pedestrian arrived on the scene. Cousins swore under his breath. Knowing Russian, he had, of course, understood all that had been said, and could picture to himself the cramped and unnatural manner in which the girl and man would be forced to travel. However, the Secret Service agent could spare no time to sympathise with them in their plight. He had other matters occupying his mind, chief of which was the manner in which he was to track the car to its destination. Having discovered so much, he was not going to spoil his good work by losing touch with the Russians now. A taxi was out of the question; first because, unless he was extremely lucky, the car would have departed before he could find one at that hour of the morning; secondly, no taxi would be capable of keeping up with a powerful Bentley full out; thirdly, the Russians would be almost certain to discover they were being followed at a time when traffic was at its lowest ebb. There was also the fact to be considered that, even were
a taxi found before the other car departed, the driver would naturally jib at accepting an individual so disreputable as a fare, and precious moments would be lost while Cousins convinced him that he was not quite the tramp he looked.

The little man had already practically decided upon his only possible means of keeping in touch with his quarry. It was risky, and would be supremely uncomfortable, but such considerations did not bother him. On the luggage grid at the back of the car had been strapped several bags, obviously the Russians’ personal belongings. Cousins had made up his mind to add himself to them. The question that caused him anxiety was not the extreme precariousness of such a position, but whether, with his additional weight, the straps would hold. If they gave way, and he was left lying injured in the road surrounded by the bags, it would be small satisfaction for the loss of the men he was after. There was also the danger that he might be observed getting on or clinging there. However, that had to be risked.

The kidnapped couple had been jammed in with some trouble and doubtless much pain to themselves. Karen returned to the house. His distorted form was unmistakable. The lights were extinguished; the hunchback appeared again, carrying an object under his arm, which Cousins guessed, with a chuckle, to be the precious slate. He shut the front door, and entered the car. One of the others got in after him. The watcher reflected, muttering a curse on them, that they would be sitting with their legs resting on the prone and twisted forms of their victims. The remaining three crowded into the front seat. As they were settling themselves, the little Secret Service agent, as silently as a shadow, darted across the square. Fortunately the car was facing
away from him; his chances of reaching it unobserved were, therefore, much greater than they otherwise would have been. No alarm was raised, and a little prayer of thanksgiving left his lips, as he clutched at the straps holding the bags in place. He had no time to test them for, at that moment, the car started. There was just sufficient space left on the grid for his feet. He sprang up, feeling, as he afterwards admitted, thoroughly scared for fear that everything would give way. However, the straps held, and he was there, clinging like a monkey, to a position that few monkeys would have relished.

As the Bentley gathered speed, he began to feel he would never be able to sustain such an attitude. The carrier jerked up and down, threatening every moment to dislodge his foothold, while his arms felt as though they were being torn from their sockets. He was forced to hang on in a stooping position for, had he straightened himself, his head would have appeared above the pile of suitcases, giving his presence away to any of the Russians who happened to glance through the little rear window of the car. It was an ordeal such as Cousins had never before suffered, and it is certain he will never forget it. The presence of an obvious tramp on the luggage carrier of a car, clinging precariously to a pile of suitcases, naturally excited great curiosity among the few people who saw him. It was extremely fortunate that it was an hour of the morning when London is at its quietest. The driver of a lorry, bringing his vehicle to a halt behind the Bentley at adverse traffic lights, called out warningly to him, one or two street cleaners further on flung ribald remarks at the grotesque figure, a policeman at Camden Town shouted. Whether the occupants of the car heard or not,
Cousins could not tell. If they did, it is certain they missed the significance of the cries. The little Secret Service man was greatly relieved when all active life was left behind, and they were on an open deserted road, even though, here, pace was increased, and his position became more dangerous than ever.

He never knew how he managed to hang on during that nightmare drive, but somehow he did. The car sped northwards along Tottenham Court Road and Hampstead Road to Camden Town, swung to the right there, speeding along Seven Sisters Road and Forest Road to Woodford, through which it passed at a very high speed. Forking to the right beyond Woodford, it ran through Loughton and took the Forest Road towards Epping. Cousins was extremely interested in the route, but the pain in his arms and the tremendous strain caused to his legs, in his desperate endeavour to keep his feet resting on the carrier, occupied his attention, giving him little time to spend in conjecture concerning their destination.

About a mile beyond Loughton, when the powerful car was negotiating the hill, as easily as though it were on the level, pace was suddenly slackened and, immediately afterwards, the Bentley swung dizzily to the left through an open gateway. The abruptness of the turn caught Cousins unprepared and, this time, despite a desperate effort to keep his ill-shod feet on the grid, they slipped off, and he found himself being dragged painfully along. It is a wonder the straps encircling the bags held under this increased strain. They must have been manufactured from very stout leather. The pace of the car now decreased, until it was moving very slowly. The little Englishman, having ascertained that it was running up the drive of a house, and
had apparently reached its destination, let go with a grunt of relief. He promptly collapsed where he was, strained muscles of his legs utterly refusing to function. His arms also ached intolerably. However, he succeeded in crawling to the side of the drive and, taking shelter behind a rhododendron bush, set to work to restore life to his limbs, at the same time straining his eyes through the darkness in order to keep watch on events.

The outlines of a large, two-storyed house could just be discerned but, as was only to be expected, there was not a light to be seen anywhere. The Bentley came to a standstill before the front door. It was far too dark for Cousins to see more than that, but obviously one, or all, of the Russians would have descended, and summoned the occupants of the place unless, of course, there was nobody there, and Karen possessed a key. Watching intently, vigorously rubbing his legs the while, the Englishman’s guess that there was somebody in the house was presently proved to be correct. Illumination suddenly blazed out from a window almost directly over the front door. A head looked out and a conversation took place with the men below. Cousins was not close enough to hear what was said. It could not have been more than a few words, however, for the man above quickly disappeared. A few minutes passed by, then the front door opened; a glow of bright light shone out from a spacious hall, and the watcher was now able clearly to see all that took place. The two unfortunate captives were carried in and up a staircase. A little while afterwards an attic window to the left of the house – he had not previously been able to notice the existence of attics – became illuminated, and he observed the shadows of men moving about. It was a definite advantage
to know where the girl and Anstruther had been taken. Cousins expressed his satisfaction in a little exclamation. By that time, he felt that his legs and arms had sufficiently recovered to resume their normal functions, but he remained where he was keenly watching the movements of Karen and his associates. The man who had opened the door was joined by two others. From what the Englishman concluded, the conspirators, in all, totalled eight. Had there been any more in the house, they would undoubtedly have also appeared by then. Of course, there may have been others elsewhere, but he was fairly confident there were not. It was essential that all in that house, in any case, must be apprehended. He knew Ivan Keremsky had been instructed to drive the car to the other side of London before daybreak and hide it, and possibly would not have returned by the time the house was raided, but Cousins had already conceived a plan for the capture of the hairy Ivan and incidently the car.

The bags were unstrapped from the luggage rack and carried inside. Then the lights of the car were extinguished, the men gathered together in the hall, and presently the door was shut. Apparently Ivan was not to make his journey at once. Cousins waited a few minutes, after which he ran quietly across towards the house, taking advantage of all possible cover for, although the night was very dark, he knew it was conceivable that his form might be silhouetted at times in places where the background was less murky than was general. He reached the car, ascertained there was nobody standing by or within the vicinity, then cautiously began to circle the house. It was quite a large building of the villa type standing in, as far as he could see, well-kept grounds.
The scent reached him from near at hand, causing him to reflect grimly that the scoundrels had found, after so much difficulty, they were hardly in their correct environment. Turning a corner, he became aware of a thin ray of light shining from a window. At once he grew doubly careful, treading with painstaking caution, for a gravel path ran round the house. The warmth of the night was, no doubt, responsible for the window being partially open, though the curtains were drawn, the little stream of light coming from the centre where they did not quite meet. Approaching on hands and knees, Cousins heard the subdued murmur of voices from within. He crawled right under the window and raised his head until he could apply an eye to the aperture. He was enabled thus to see into the room while the voices reached his ears now quite distinctly. Karen was there, with Turgenev, Keremsky, and Gortschakoff. There was no sign of Vogel, who was doubtless guarding the captives, but a short, stout, florid-faced man in a dressing gown was talking to Karen and appeared to be perturbed. They all had glasses in their hands, and were standing.

‘What you tell me sounds very well,’ the stout man was saying in Russian, ‘but I am not certain it is wise. It is true the funds are low, and I am not in a position to supply any more from my business. Five thousand pounds will certainly be of great help, but are you sure it will be handed over to you?’

‘Bah!’ replied Karen in a tone of disgust, ‘you always were thin-skinned, Voronoff, even though you are thick-bodied. Of course, I am sure. With the letter and the cheque and my own story of the elopement, the bank manager will not hesitate.
Why should he? Perhaps he will give a wedding present,’ he added with a laugh.

‘Supposing the young man refuses to write the letter and sign the cheque?’

‘Will he, do you think, when one of us holds a dagger to the breast of the girl?’

The fat man shrugged his shoulders.

‘Under those circumstances,’ he admitted, ‘I daresay he will do what you require. But I am not satisfied that you are wise in coming here now. It was arranged you should hide here afterwards – not before. This kidnapping and your desertion of the house in Soho Square will bring in the police when we did not wish their interest to be roused. There will be a hue and cry for the man and girl and consequently for you, my dear Nicholas.’

‘For Monsieur Felix Dorrien, not for me,’ corrected Karen softly.

‘Have you not forgotten a description will be circulated? Your figure is somewhat obvious, and easily recognised.’

The hunchback snarled; his face became livid. He stepped towards Voronoff and, for a moment, it looked as though it was his intention to strike him. The fat man started back hastily.

‘Leave my figure alone,’ snapped Karen harshly.

‘My dear friend,’ protested the other in conciliatory tones, ‘I was not intending any disparagement. I was simply pointing out that you are rather conspicuous, owing to your unfortunate disability.’

‘I can take care of myself,’ growled Karen in no way consoled.