The Crimson Blind | Page 9

he
is dead. The rest is tolerably easy. He disguises himself and goes to a
doctor of repute, whom he asks to come and see his brother--i.e.,
himself--who is dangerously ill. The doctor goes later in the day and
finds his patient in bed with severe internal inflammation. This is
brought about by a free use of albumen. I don't know what amount of
albumen one would take without extreme risk, but you could pump that
information out of any doctor. Well, our medical man calls again and
yet again, and finds his patient sinking. The next day the patient,
disguised, calls upon his doctor with the information that his 'brother' is
dead. The doctor is not in the least surprised, and without going to view
the body gives a certificate of death. Now, I admit that all this sounds
cheap and theatrical, but you can't get over facts. The thing actually
happened a little time ago in London, and there is no reason why it
shouldn't happen again."
"You suggest that I should do this thing?" the voice asked.
"Pardon me, I did nothing of the kind," Steel replied "You asked me to
show you how my heroine gets herself out of a terrible position, and I
am doing it. You are not without friends. The way I was called up
tonight and the way I was brought here prove that. With the aid of your
friends the thing is possible to you. You have only to find a lodging
where people are not too observant and a doctor who is too busy, or too
careless, to look after dead patients, and the thing is done. If you desire
to be looked upon as dead--especially by a powerful enemy--I cannot
recommend a more natural, rational way than this. As to the details,
they may be safely left to you. The clever manner in which you have
kept up the mystery to-night convinces me that I have nothing to teach
you in this direction. And if there is anything more I can do--"
"A thousand, thousand thanks," the voice cried, passionately. "To be

looked upon as 'dead,' to be near to the rascal who smiles to think that I
am in my grave.... And everything so dull and prosaic on the surface!
Yes, I have friends who will aid me in the business. Some day I may be
able to thank you face to face, to tell you how I managed to see your
plot. May I?"
The question came quite eagerly, almost imploringly. In the darkness
Steel felt a hand trembling on his breast, a cool, slim hand, with many
rings on the fingers. Steel took the hand and carried it to his lips.
"Nothing would give me greater pleasure," he said. "And may you be
successful. Good-night."
"Good-night, and God bless you for a real gentleman and a true friend.
I will go out of the room first and put the lights up afterwards. You will
walk away and close the door behind you. The newspaper cutting!
Thanks. And once more good-night, but let us hope not good-bye."
She was gone. Steel could hear the distant dying swish of silk, the
rustling of the portière, and then, with a flick, the lights came up again.
Half-blinded by the sudden illumination Steel fumbled his way to the
door and into the street. As he did so Hove Town Hall clock chimed
two. With a cigarette between his teeth David made his way home.
He could not think it all out yet; he would wait until he was in his own
comfortable chair under the roses and palms leading from his study. A
fine night of adventure, truly, and a paying one. He pressed the
precious packet of notes to his side and his soul expanded.
He was home at last. But surely he had closed the door before he
started? He remembered distinctly trying the latch. And here the latch
was back and the door open. The quick snap of the electric light
declared nobody in the dining-room. Beyond, the study was in darkness.
Nobody there, but--stop!
A stain on the carpet; another by the conservatory door. Pots of flowers
scattered about, and a huddled mass like a litter of empty sacks in one
corner. Then the huddled mass resolved itself into the figure of a man

with a white face smeared with blood. Dead! Oh, yes, dead enough.
Steel flew to the telephone and rang furiously.
"Give me 52, Police Station," he cried. "Are you there? Send somebody
at once up here--15, Downend Terrace. There has been murder done
here. For Heaven's sake come quickly."
Steel dropped the receiver and stared with strained eyes at the dreadful
sight before him.
CHAPTER IV
IN EXTREMIS
For some time--a minute, an hour--Steel