H. Bedford-Jones

“ Korin seized a suitcase and beat out the glass of the broken window beside him—needlessly, for he might have drawn the sash—and then crawled out. The voice of the pilot sounded:
“Here, I say! You can’t do it, you know—”
Korin laughed, and the sound of a shot brought silence.
A little after, Durant was aware of Larson bending over him, fumbling at his wrists, shaking, excited, yet also laughing.
“Men coming,” said Larson. “Two airplanes landing, too—looks like a landing-ground. For the love of heaven, Durant, keep your mouth shut about the money!” ”

“ Durant was puzzled, the more so because he himself was acting in the dark, not knowing what Makoff intended.
“And she was a real baroness, eh?” Larson chewed his cigar. “Well, well! And to think of you—but I suppose you don’t imagine that I know who you are? But I do. That’s why I’m afraid to accept your invitation. I’d like to, because I like you; anyone can see you’re straight as a string, in spite of what they say about nobility. Now, I’m not so sure about that Russian chap—”
“Nobility?” repeated Durant. Larson broke into a laugh. ”

“ Durant stared, wondering at such recklessness. “You’re not serious?”
Larson chuckled. “Think it queer, eh? Well, it is! But in the old country, you know,—and all over Europe for that matter,—American money is badly wanted. Not in gold, because it’s not pure, but bills. So I’m bringing back a small fortune in hundred-dollar bills. You’ve no idea what can be bought with hundred-dollar American bills in Europe! I’m going to make my whole family comfortable for life, I can tell you. ”

“ Sooner or later, a break must come with Makoff—indeed, Durant meant to attack the man mercilessly, pitilessly, upon reaching Paris. There he would be on familiar ground, and would have friends among the dope-ring, thanks to Lewis; he could fight fire with fire. Until then, he must inform himself as fully as possible about Makoff’s crowd, arm himself with every possible weapon, prepare!
“I’ll have to play my part, save Larson if possible, keep under cover with Makoff,” he decided. And aloud: “My car should meet the train—have you any luggage?” ”

“ Why bother to kill him?”
“Because Americans have loud voices.” Makoff chuckled. “And certainly we do not want the law after us! Surely you can realize this?”
Durant nodded and banished his frown. “Right! Indeed, it is magnificent. This Michael is an admirable fellow—I congratulate you on having him. He handles details wonderfully!”
“He should,” said Makoff. “He’s no other than Michael Korin, who killed Grand Duke Vassily last year in Tours and turned over all his papers to me. Well, I’ve no time to lose. Give my regards to the charming Baronne—and this envelope. It’s her passage to Paris.” ”

“ Here’s Larson. All together, now—out to the car, pile in anyhow!”
And how Michael drove, out through Victoria and on to Croydon! Durant marveled at it; no American, accustomed to wide highways and a gradual sweep around other cars, could have tooled a car at any speed along these narrow English lanes, except with long practice. With a head-on collision apparently imminent, each car would give a jerky twist, out and back—and they would be past. There was a peculiar knack to it, and the Russian had this knack at his fingers’ ends. ”

“ Why?”
“I don’t cotton to him,” said the other. “He may be a nobleman and all that, and the cousin of Baroness Glincka—that the name?—but I know a crook when I see one. I’d ought to, eh? Yes sir. That bird, for all his society airs, is a bad one.”
“I believe you,” said Durant with a chuckle. Wary Makoff! The Russian had sensed this suspicion in Larson, and did not intend to show himself as a guest. “Makoff wont show up here, I’m glad to say. How do you know I’m not a crook too?” ”

“ When Larson drinks his early tea, he’s done for. Places are already booked for you and Michael on the noon plane from Croydon for Paris. It’ll be another day or two at least before Larson’s body is discovered, perhaps much longer. You and Michael will bring the stuff. Your seat in the plane is booked in your own name, Michael’s in that of Giles Hopper—his passport identity. All clear?”
“Quite,” said Durant, “except the necessity for murder. Why not rob him and go? Murder in England means that the law will be at your heels for life.”
“Certainly.” Makoff eyed him with a grim smile. ”

“ Warn Larson? Impossible. Against his plans and hopes for rescuing Helen Glincka from the blackmail grip of Makoff, Durant would have let a dozen Larsons go to death. Being a party to it was another matter altogether, and here he could act as events gave him clue. He was well assured that Makoff would have made careful plans by wire, for the Russian had a very able criminal organization to back him up; warning Larson, then, might only precipitate the disaster. ”

“ I thought that fellow had a bad look to his eye, all along.”
“All right; we’ll drop him in Paris, then. Meantime, about your money: Giles will drive us today, and that’s why the place is safe enough until tonight. We’ll go over by air, and there’s no Customs examination that way; better make the money into a separate packet and take it with you, however, as the luggage is packed in a separate compartment.”
Larson nodded, and his wrinkled, shrewd old face cracked in a grin. “Fine, My Lord, fine! We’ll have some fun, eh?” Durant rather thought they would—before it was over. ”

“ Durant calmly opened all the packages, found them to be as stated, and then stowed them away in his grip, which he replaced in his room, after locking. He chuckled again to think what Makoff would say to this simple acquisition—after so much pains and expense had been bestowed to get Larson in a murder-trap!
“Decidedly,” he said cynically, “it pays to be an honest man!” ”

“ Boris is planning something at London, before going on. I’m not sure what; but the victim is that white-haired man who keeps to himself. Larson, the name is. Boris introduced him to me tonight, using my real name. He’s a nice old man.”
“And a game’s on, eh?” Durant knew Larson by sight—a stiff, bronzed man with white hair and mustache, and shrewd, kindly old eyes, traveling alone. ”

“ Dardent appeared, waspishly excited, and the maid—in reality his wife—followed. Helen Glincka was on the stairs, and Durant took her bags and set them with his own.
“It’ll be touch and go,” he said, perceiving that the general feeling was that the police were after them all. Naturally, he alone knew the actual facts. “Depends on getting off on the jump. Not a word of anything wrong, now, before Larson! Helen, we’ll drop you at the Savoy. Go on to Paris tonight via Havre, as arranged; you’re in no danger. Dardent, where’ll we drop you?” ”

“ I’m going right on—taking the afternoon plane over tomorrow.”
Lewis fumbled for a card-case. He was a smallish man, very alert—a wholesale druggist from the Middle West, now engaged in smuggling a suitcase filled with cocaine into France—a task in which Durant presumably was aiding. True, Durant had saved him from Boris Makoff, had dumped the cocaine into the Atlantic and substituted baking soda for it—and for these services, known and unknown, Lewis was an ally. Once in Paris, he promised to be a most important ally. ”

“ Damnable luck running into that chap on the train—used to be a Scotland Yard man. Wonder what he is now? A baronet, maybe.”
“You don’t seem worried,” said Durant.
The other shrugged.
“Not a bit. I’ve got two passports—different names, different faces. Inside half an hour every passport bureau in the country will be looking out for my face and Larson’s name; I couldn’t get out of England on that passport if I wanted to! But on the other, and with you to help, it’ll work. Anything will work with one of the nobility in it.”
“As court records prove!” And Durant chuckled. “Right-ho! We’ll see.” ”

“ They swung in between the rows of low buildings and came to rest in the parking-space beside the office. Two planes were already warming up—a huge silver giant, triple-engined, and a smaller De Haviland, on the concrete take-off. An orange-brown French machine was just circling to land. ”

“ We’re off in five minutes.”
“I’ll need ten,” said Larson, calmly enough. “I must get rid of this mustache, clap on some hair-dye, fix my face.”
“Take seven—move like hell!” snapped Durant.
Larson was already plunging for his bag. Catching up his own grips without bothering to pack his scattered belongings, Durant hurried downstairs to the telephone. In two minutes he had the Croydon aërodrome on the line.
“Mr. Durant speaking,” he said. “I have bookings for myself and a friend on the noon Paris bus tomorrow. We want to change and go over today. A third may go with us.” ”

“ Also Count Dardent. House small. Others may come. Giles full charge everything.
As Durant pocketed the letter, it occurred to him that Makoff must have chalked up a pretty telegraph bill from Plymouth.
“Lord, how it’s changed in fifteen years!” exclaimed Larson, staring out at the streets. Thin rain was falling. “The busses—would you look at ’em! Block the streets, almost—bigger than the houses! Where are we heading?”
“Richmond,” said Durant. “I’ve a small place there. By the way, I think Baroness Glincka will show up tomorrow, for the week-end, and perhaps Count Dardent. ”