The Game Played in the Dark | Page 3

on this occasion.
He was summoned to the telephone just before dinner on Friday
evening to receive a message personally. Greatorex, his secretary, had
taken the call, but came in to say that the caller would give him nothing
beyond his name--Brebner. The name was unknown to Carrados, but
such incidents were not uncommon, and he proceeded to comply.
"Yes," he responded; "I am Max Carrados speaking. What is it?"
"Oh, it is you, sir, is it? Mr. Brickwill told me to get to you direct."
"Well, you are all right. Brickwill? Are you the British Museum?"
"Yes. I am Brebner in the Chaldean Art Department. They are in a
great stew here. We have just found out that someone has managed to
get access to the Second Inner Greek Room and looted some of the
cabinets there. It is all a mystery as yet."

"What is missing?" asked Carrados.
"So far we can only definitely speak of about six trays of Greek
coins--a hundred to a hundred and twenty, roughly."
"Important?"
The line conveyed a caustic bark of tragic amusement.
"Why, yes, I should say so. The beggar seems to have known his
business. All fine specimens of the best period.
Syracuse--Messana--Croton--Amphipolis.
Eumenes--Evainetos--Kimons. The chief quite wept."
Carrados groaned. There was not a piece among them that he had not
handled lovingly.
"What are you doing?" he demanded.
"Mr. Brickwill has been to Scotland Yard, and, on advice, we are not
making it public as yet. We don't want a hint of it to be dropped
anywhere, if you don't mind, sir."
"That will be all right."
"It was for that reason that I was to speak with you personally. We are
notifying the chief dealers and likely collectors to whom the coins, or
some of them, may be offered at once if it is thought that we haven't
found it out yet. Judging from the expertness displayed in the selection,
we don't think that there is any danger of the lot being sold to a
pawnbroker or a metal-dealer, so that we are running very little real risk
in not advertising the loss."
"Yes; probably it is as well," replied Carrados. "Is there anything that
Mr. Brickwill wishes me to do?"
"Only this, sir; if you are offered a suspicious lot of Greek coins, or
hear of them, would you have a look--I mean ascertain whether they are
likely to be ours, and if you think they are communicate with us and

Scotland Yard at once."
"Certainly," replied the blind man. "Tell Mr. Brickwill that he can rely
on me if any indication comes my way. Convey my regrets to him and
tell him that I feel the loss quite as a personal one.... I don't think that
you and I have met as yet, Mr. Brebner?"
"No, sir," said the voice diffidently, "but I have looked forward to the
pleasure. Perhaps this unfortunate business will bring me an
introduction."
"You are very kind," was Carrados's acknowledgment of the
compliment. "Any time . . . I was going to say that perhaps you don't
know my weakness, but I have spent many pleasant hours over your
wonderful collection. That ensures the personal element. Good-bye."
Carrados was really disturbed by the loss although his concern was
tempered by the reflection that the coins would inevitably in the end
find their way back to the Museum. That their restitution might involve
ransom to the extent of several thousand pounds was the least poignant
detail of the situation. The one harrowing thought was that the booty
might, through stress or ignorance, find its way into the melting-pot.
That dreadful contingency, remote but insistent, was enough to affect
the appetite of the blind enthusiast.
He was expecting Inspector Beedel, who would be full of his own case,
but he could not altogether dismiss the aspects of possibility that
Brebner's communication opened before his mind. He was still
concerned with the chances of destruction and a very indifferent
companion for Greatorex, who alone sat with him, when Parkinson
presented himself. Dinner was over but Carrados had remained rather
longer than his custom, smoking his mild Turkish cigarette in silence.
"A lady wishes to see you, sir. She said you would not know her name,
but that her business would interest you."
The form of message was sufficiently unusual to take the attention of
both men.

"You don't know her, of course, Parkinson?" inquired his master.
For just a second the immaculate Parkinson seemed tongue-tied. Then
he delivered himself in his most ceremonial strain.
"I regret to say that I cannot claim the advantage, sir," he replied.
"Better let me tackle her, sir," suggested Greatorex with easy
confidence. "It's probably a sub."
The sportive offer was declined by a smile and a shake of the head.
Carrados