The big fish

Contents

Chapter Page

I In the Auction Room 1

II The Lacquered Box 17

Chapter I In The Auction Boom

I HAD left my club that day somewhere between three and four of the afternoon, and I made my way northward through the narrow channel of Bond Street as far as Oxford Circus. There I deflected my course and wandered in a leisurely way down Oxford Street. It had been sultry and overcast all that full summer day, with an ominous blackness in the east ; and now the murk opened, wreaths of white scud fringing it like feathers, and the storm belched on London. Within ten minutes the gutters were flooded and the pavements awash. The storm was tropical in its intensity. It was England’s idea of a summer — two fine days — you know the adage. While here was the thunder-storm, with a cataclysm.

The streets cleared in a twinkling; there were flying flashes of raiment, a surge of black coats, the noise of splashing and trampling, and then emptiness, silence save only when Heaven blared overhead in rolling volleys of thunder. I took refuge at the outset in the open auction room.

You know these Oxford Street rooms in which a conspicuous sale is conducted from year’s end to the other. Auctioneers, public, and lots take their places in relays, but the sale goes on for ever. It is immortal; it is a never-pausing stream. All ranks, all walks of life, all trades and callings contribute to its flow and volume. Here is a bankrupt stock, here are the superfluities of rich houses, here are the household goods of departing families, here, too, are the effects of estates wound up 44 by order of the executors.” China collections and select and valuable possessions find their way naturally to the superior marts of world-wide fame; but these establishments deal with average and ordinary chattels, and deal with them on a generous, wholesale, large-handed scale.

The press of people who either were potential purchasers, or had like myself sought refuge from the rain, was considerable. I looked about me idly. A sleek, hawk-faced, dark auctioneer, with an ingratiating manner, on the rostrum, rows of indifferent faces, a steam and smell of damp clothes, a passivevisaged man mechanically displaying before the rostrum a couple of ugly, modern, china vases — there was nothing here that would have suggested for a moment any connection with romance. It was a dull, prosaic scene such as was witnessed all day and every day in haunts of this kind. . . .

Against a wall stood several pieces of furniture, tables, chairs, bureaus and the like, each with its number. They were 44 lots ” ; this was the house of lots. Upon one of the tables was a small, lacquered box, obviously J apanese and apparently of some antiquity. Most of the furniture 44 going,” as the phrase is, was crudely modern, useful no doubt, but raw in its modernity. I think that was why I took notice of the box, which was labelled 301. A lane opened in the crowd just then, and I pushed along it toward the door beyond which the gloom seemed lifting; but I had not gone very far when a crack shattered the sky right above us, and the rain streamed out of the wrack fiercer than ever. It splashed and leaped from the pavement. Clearly the street was no place for any pedestrian just yet.

I turned back, this time upon the other side of the room, and by the opposite wall. Here, too, furniture was disposed in a more or less orderly array.

“ What shall I say for this ? ”

“ By your leave, gentlemen, if you please.”

The auctioneer with his stereotyped smile was brandishing a hammer. Two assistants, having cut their way through the crowd, were carrying off a sideboard towards the rostrum.

“ What shall we say for this? ”

The press closed again about the departing sideboard, and I found myself pushed against an oak writing-table, heavily carved by modern German hands. The edge stuck into my side, and I twisted about, and saw what rested on it. It was a lacquered box of a similar pattern to that upon the other side of the room. “ Lot 346 ” was inscribed upon it. I wondered by what clerical stupidity the two had been dissociated. To bracket the two pieces in one lot was the obvious thing to do. I picked this one up and examined it. It seemed to me, judging from what small knowledge I had of antiques, to have been a lady’s toilet box. Its lid opened with a key and showed two compartments, in one of which was a little brass pot which, recently used for ink, had once probably held powder or paint. I closed the lid, and looked out at the street. A clap of thunder burst, it seemed, at the very door. I shrugged my shoulders, and turned my attention to the man in the rostrum.

“ Any advance on thirty-one and six ? ” The hammer fell softly.

“ Lot 301 ; an antique Japanese lacquer-work box. Here you have it, gentlemen, a very fine specimen of oriental work, as any one can see. The price of Japanese work is advancing every year. This is real old work. Pass it round, Williams.”

The mechanical assistant moved within his narrow confines from verge to verge, with the box I had noticed on the other side of the room upon his upraised and flattened palm.

“ What shall we say? ” invited the auctioneer.

The room had thinned just about me, and some paces in front I noticed two men in conversation. One was a short, moon-faced, rubicund fellow, square of body and thickset, heavy limbed and dwarfed, with a suggestion of physical power. The other was lean and tall, with a scanty, uneven beard grizzled in parts, and a fidgety way with him in his talk as he bent over his companion and gesticulated. My eyes were on this strangely assorted pair when I saw the square-set man open his mouth.

“ Thirty bob.”

The bidding passed from him to others, and mounted by shillings. It was evident that the auctioneer had either no great opinion of the lot, or no hope of the audience.

“ Thirty-six I ’m bid.”

The square-set man had been engaged in talk with his friend, and now nodded at the rostrum.

“ Thirty-seven, thank you. Thirty-eight there, in two places.”

The lean man gesticulated again. It looked as if he were urging his companion to bid again, but the latter only grinned, and shook his head. At forty some one flagged the bidding, and then the thickset man stepped in.

“ Forty-five,” he said deliberately.

“Forty-five! Thank you.” The auctioneer accepted the jump with a bow. He recognized a determined purchaser. So apparently did the spectators, for no opposition was offered — the hammer fell at forty-five. The thickset man had employed exemplary tactics.

A few minutes later they had disappeared. The sale was grinding on its way. Outside the rain was clearing off, and I should be at liberty in a few minutes. If the rain had ceased five minutes earlier — well, it is idle work to speculate on the chances of fortune which are only chances because we do not understand them.

The auctioneer was consulting his clerk in inaudible exchanges.

“ Three hundred and thirty, three hundred and thirty-one, down to three hundred and forty-five, no lot, gentlemen. Three hundred and forty-six, a — oh, an antique lacquered box. Get it, Williams.”

The man was hunting in my neighborhood and passed me with the second box from the oak bureau.

44 Why, it ’s the twin of the one we had just now. Well, what shall we say? Shall we start it where the other left off? ”

Some one bid a sovereign; and by shillings the price advanced to thirty shillings. It seemed cheap at that, and I jumped into the competition. My bid was swept up by the auctioneer, and swamped at once. I was at one end of the see-saw up to thirty-eight shillings, and then, following the example set by the dwarf, I leaped to two guineas. The tactics answered in this case also. At two guineas I became the owner of the 44 antique Japanese lacquered box.”

By the time I had paid over my money to the clerk, and secured my purchase, the sky had cleared, and I went toward the door. I was vaguely conscious of the dwarf again, and realized that he was engaged in conversation with the auctioneer’s clerk. I was therefore astonished to find both him and his friend, the lean man, planted in my path before the door.

44 1 reckon, sir, we ’d like to do a deal with you over what you carry there,” blurted out the lean man. He spoke in a high-pitched, rasping voice, which somehow rubbed me the wrong way, and I daresay my expression showed my antagonism, for the other thrust him into the background with a gesture. His voice was soft, soothing, and equably rich.

44 Excuse me, sir, I purchased a lacquered box in here a little while ago. Inadvertently I overlooked the other. They were a pair and I lost the other by a piece of stupidity, for which I have only myself to thank. I learned from the clerk that you had the second box and I thought you might be open to an offer.” He waved his big fat hand to the lean man with a smile. 44 My friend is an enthusiastic connoisseur.”

The explanation sufficed, but as I looked at them I was once more affected by the oddness of their conjunction. The lean man’s eyes were hungry and even threatening, as I interpreted them. I shifted the lacquered box under my arm in a leisurely way.

“ I ’m very sorry,” I said, 44 but I took a fancy to this box.”

The broad man looked at me whimsically. 44 So did I,” he said. 44 1 suppose it ’s a question of price, isn’t it? I’m willing to give you double your bid to make a match for my mantelpiece.”

Four guineas ! I was n’t tempted in the least. I only had the desire to see what would follow on my refusal.

44 1 really have a fancy for it,” I demurred. 44 You know what a collector is.”

44 It is precisely because I do that I ’m going to make the offer six guineas,” he said, with a friendly smile.

44 1 ’m afraid that would n’t tempt me,” I answered, smiling also.

He still smiled. 44 What price would you put on it, sir? ”

44 1 want it,” I said bluntly, determined to carry the bargaining to its uttermost limit.

44 The other box is of no use to me without its mate,” said he. 44 Will you take ten guineas?”

“Fifteen?” he said, in his mellow voice.

“ I J m sorry.” I moved as if to depart, but the lean man plucked his friend by the shoulders. His eyes were malicious and gleaming.

“ Thank you very much,” said the square man with imperturbable politeness, paying no heed to this intervention. “ I must apologize for troubling you.” He moved a step or two with the other clinging to his arm, and then turned again. “ There is one thing I might ask of your courtesy,” he said, as if on an afterthought. “ Might I examine yours? I should like to see if the details of the work vary, and in what particulars.”

“ Why, certainly,” I replied, and would have unwrapped my possession, but he stopped me.

“ Pardon me, this is rather a crowded place, and I should be loath to inconvenience you. Would you mind crossing the road to the tavern there? It will not detain you more than a few minutes.”

“ I am at your service,” I said, moved to this assent by a strong curiosity, which has always been characteristic of me.

We passed out together, crossed, and entered the wineshop, where we took seats about a small table. The dwarf called the waiter, and in a twinkling we had each a glass of champagne before us. I unwrapped the box, which the dwarf took.

“ This is very good of you,” he said. “ My name is Werner.”

“ Mine is Poindexter,” said I.

The lean man murmured something in his rasping voice, but I did not catch what it was. I assumed he also was proffering the compliment of his name. While his friend scrutinized the box, I examined both. The lean man was roughly dressed in a Bohemian way, and wore a broad-brimmed hat; the other was tailored to a nicety, as far as his extraordinary frame would allow. He was scrupulously in fashion, which seemed to me rather ridiculous ; for I could imagine him only rolling on a ship’s deck, where his breadth and stability of bulk would conceivably have been of advantage to his balance.

44 Yes,” said he, opening the lid and eyeing the interior carefully, 44 I thought it. Maddock, let us have a look at the other, will you? ”

At that Maddock opened the loose coat which covered his meager chest, and produced out of a huge inner pocket the second lacquered box, or rather the one I had seen first. The two were set on the table before me. They seemed to be identical in appearance.

44 You see, Mr. Poindexter,” said Werner, with a rueful smile, 44 why I was anxious to secure yours. They are an absolute match.”

“ I ’m sorry,” said I lightly ; 44 can I make a bid for yours? ”

44 I don’t know,” he said thoughtfully. 44 One without the other — I would n’t mind raising my offer to twenty.”

Both looked at me. I shook my head; why I refused I do not know. I believe it was mainly out of devilment. There was no doubt that twenty guineas was vastly in excess of the box’s value.

Werner took it very well, I thought. He hunched his huge, square shoulders and smiled.

“ Anyway,” he said, “ it sha’n’t spoil a pleasant meeting. We ’ll have another go round.”

He rapped on the table and the waiter appeared. It would have been ungracious to deny him in the circumstances, and I accepted the offer of another glass, which I did not need nor want.

The two boxes were side by side upon the table and my eyes went over them. Now I have not been specially equipped by fate for the battle of life, and in a “ rough-and-tumble ” I don’t know that I should have emerged successfully. Happily I have been spared the chances of a struggle for life. But I have always had two primitive qualities, which I once foolishly hoped would lead me far in the diplomatic service. However, they don’t need primitive properties there. Mine are a very excellent memory for faces, and — I suppose what that springs from — a very accurate and acute observation. I sum up with my eyes swiftly ; I have the trick of keeping the items in my mind; and I can call upon them at will for recognition. So, examining those two boxes with a little more care than I had hitherto displayed, I noted a slight difference between them. It was only a trifling variation in the flight of lacquered birds on the lid, the deviation of a tail, and seemed to me of no significance. When I looked up again, as the waiter brought the bottle, Werner was gazing towards the bar in the distance, and mechanically my eyes followed his. A few people stood about it, and drank, and ate cheese and biscuits, and talked. One of these, who, however, had no companion for conversation, was a man of forty odd dressed quietly in gray. His face, as he turned sideways from the bar to drink of his glass, came into profile, and I remembered that I had noticed him casually in the auction room.

44 Well, here ’s health and wealth,” said Werner, raising his glass.

I echoed the toast, and, as we set down the glasses, Werner said suddenly:

44 By the way, Maddock, I never looked up that train. There ’s a time-table hanging up there. Would you mind getting it? ”

Now the time-table hung just beyond me on the wall, and I could easily have reached it. Maddock rose, and bent forward, but I was before him. I turned and unhitched the book from its nail, and handed it to Werner.

44 Many thanks,” he said, and opened it.

At the bar I could see the man whom I had recognized, now full face towards us, munching a biscuit abstractedly. Werner shut the book.

44 Six thirty-five,” he said. 44 That ’ll do nicely.” He drained the glass, and I followed suit, and we both rose.

44 Better stick that back in your pocket, Maddock,” said he, with an indifferent gesture towards the boxes. Maddock put a hand out to the one near him, but my hand was already upon it.

44 This is mine,” I said. I had unconsciously registered, you see, that difference in the tail feathering.

44 Ours was this side ! 99 declared Maddock rather shortly.

Werner was regarding us thoughtfully.

44 Is it ? ” he inquired.

I opened the box, and showed the ink-stained bottle. The bottle in the other had been clean.

“ Well, I should n’t have known the difference. To me they ’re as like as two pins,” he said, smiling. 44 Sorry, Mr. Poindexter. An unusual name, yours.”

He looked meditative, but I seemed to be aware that his tone and mien held some message for his excitable companion.

44 Yes,” I said. 44 Good-by ; I ’m sorry I could n’t accommodate you.”

44 Don’t mention it,” he said, with a wave of his big, dumpy hand. 44 It happens every day in life and business.”

It was at that I left him, and he sat down again when I moved away. The man who had been drinking at the bar passed through the doorway at the same time as myself, and was swallowed up by the stream of foot passengers which was once more flowing east and west.

I took a taxicab straight to my flat at Brompton Court, for it was growing late. I had correspondence to occupy me, and I was dining out. The lacquered box looked quite handsome on the top of my Chinese cabinet, but I had leisure to wonder why I had been such a fool as to refuse twenty guineas for it. I did not examine it further, but went to my writing-desk, and an hour later I dressed for dinner. I dined at the Savoy in pleasant company, went to a theater later, and got back to Brompton Court just about midnight.

My man, Drayton, is all the servant I have or need in the flat. He is a handy man from the navy and an admirable fellow, quick, intelligent, silent, good at need, with an imperturbable cheerfulness and

— not least — a capable cook. I came upon Drayton after I left Persia, when I had been trying my luck in the consular service, and he had remained with me ever since, and would not leave if I could help it. Drayton went to bed as a rule at eleven, and he had gone when I entered. The electric light glowed dimly in the hall, and one tantalum bulb was switched on in the dining-room, where a napkin was neatly set out with a decanter of whisky, a glass, and a plate of caviare sandwiches. This was Drayton’s kindly thought of me lest I should be hungry ere I retired. I sat down, mixed myself a drink, and nibbled at the sandwiches while I turned over my letters. A shaded, rosy light suffused the room. I turned my ears to the door and listened. At first I thought it was Drayton, and then I knew it was n’t. I had heard the drub of the tradesmen’s lift in the area in the distance, but had paid no heed. It was the sound in the passage that arrested me — a very faint sound, but a regular one — pat — pat

— pat.

I got up, moved to the door, and opened it wider. The light from the hall illumined the mouth of the passage to the kitchen quarters, and nothing was visible. The heavy Wilton pile masked my footsteps, which repeated that pat — pat — pat. I saw the door of the drawing-room ajar, and pushed it wider. The closed curtains held the room in thick darkness.

I had a notion, and dismissed it as I conceived it, that some one was breathing not far off.

I stepped inside and groped for the switches. As I found them, and clicked the chamber into light, the black figure of a man flew past me, jolting me sharply aside in the process, and sped out and down the corridor to the kitchen. I called out, and at that moment I heard a door open at the end of the passage where Drayton slept.

“ Catch thief, Drayton ! ” I shouted.

There was a noise, a crash. I rushed down the passage and bumped into a human body. The next moment the corridor and the kitchen were alight. Drayton confronted me in pajamas.

“Where is he?” I asked breathlessly.

Drayton ran across the kitchen ; the window was open into the gray summer night.

“ He ’s jumped through on to the tree,” he said excitedly.

The arms of a huge plane tree from the gardens without protruded right across the kitchen window. The breeze was now rumpling the feathered branches pleasantly, and sighing in the leaves. I dashed out of the flat, which was on the second floor, and went down the stairs two at a time. When I reached the door into the garden I had some difficulty in turning the cumbrous key, but once outside I went at express speed to the base of the plane tree.

“ That you, sir? I ’m afraid he ’s gone.” Drayton’s voice called from above. “ I heard a scuffle in the bushes over there.”

I sought the bushes, explored them, beat the gardens generally with a lantern and the help of Drayton, who had hastily dressed and followed me. But there was no trace of the fugitive to be found, and I conceived that he had made his escape by scaling one of the iron gates which gave access to the garden from the streets which surrounded the quadrangle of Brompton Court. There was no use in continuing a vain search, and so I returned to my rooms.

Drayton and I made an examination of the flat, and discovered, as I had already had time to conjecture, that the intruder had obtained entrance by hauling himself up from the area on the dumb-waiter, and forcing the scullery window. His object, of course, had been plunder, but after a long scrutiny I could not find anything missing. I had evidently interrupted him early in his work; in fact, with the recollection of the rumbling dumb-waiter in my ears, I came to the conclusion that he had only just made his entrance when I sensed him in the passage. Drayton went back to his bed, but I remained up for an hour. I finished my sandwiches and my whisky, and began to review the day, as one sometimes does. The scene in the auction room and my experience subsequently in the wine bar returned to my memory. I smiled at the oddness of it, and once more asked myself why I had been such an ass as to refuse those twenty guineas. That reminded me to have another look at my purchase. I went into the drawing-room, switched on the light, and turned to the Chinese cabinet. The lacquered box had fallen on its side, and lay askew upon the cabinet. I set it up, wondering — and then I guessed. The thief must have upset it when I disturbed him. He had gone straight to the cabinet as a likely place for valuables, and had caught up —

Then my mind came to an abrupt pause. For something flashed upon me, an illuminating discovery. The visitor had wanted that box.

Chapter II

I WENT to bed and to sleep with that conviction impressed upon me, and it mingled in my dreams. I fled down the deeps of sleep, actually carrying a box which I strove in vain to hide, and I was pursued by invisible and mysterious enemies. I don’t know if it was due to the sandwiches, or to the excitement of the nocturnal chase, but the atmosphere of my dreams was maleficent; it frightened me. I awoke to dawn and sense and the normal conditions of life, and, throwing off the dreams and facts alike of the past night without any difficulty, I made a good breakfast. I had a full day before me, but before I went out I gave Drayton instructions for the day, and I remembered the box. I told him to put it away in a safe place, and to inform the estate office regarding the attempted burglary.

When I got back in the evening, I asked if anything of moment had happened, and received Drayton’s negative with satisfaction. I mused over my cigar, remembering an engagement I had entered into during the day. I had met Dick Cassilis at lunch, a man whom I had not seen since we were both in

Vienna, and I had invited him down to my river bungalow.

Cassilis was a Harvard man, by profession a lawyer, and by preference a wanderer. He had inherited a small patrimony, like myself, and he had a passion for travel. Still young — he was thirtytwo, some four years under my own age — he had not yet succeeded in satiating himself with movement, and he turned up often where one never looked for him. He was at Vienna on one of these pilgrimages when I was attached to the embassy there, and I had taken a huge fancy to him on the spot.

He was a lean, tall, clean-shaven fellow with a fresh color and an admirable smile which gave charm to his face. He had seen a great deal, but he was not a talker — at least he did not talk about himself; and he had a quick, alert mind and an unquenchable spirit. How it was ever supposed that this man would settle down to the drab routine of the law is more than I can conceive. He was an adventurer at heart, and game to back his hazards to the last.

Yet even Dick Cassilis had his equable and lazy moods, and he had joyfully acquiesced in my suggestion that he should spend a week-end on the river. It was midsummer; the heat was growing; and all the conditions of the weather argued in favor of cool, unconventional raiment, of lounges on the lawn, of long, refreshing drinks through straws, of punts and the cool breath of waters, of house-boats bedecked with Chinese lanterns; in fine, of a world at ease and peace.

Cassilis and I left London next day after lunch at the club, Drayton having gone down earlier to make preparations. My bungalow was a small affair, but its setting was picturesque. The shaven lawn went down to the river’s edge, from which my boat swung and dangled in the flowing tide. There was a little color in the garden, and the place was bright with flowers. It was enchanting after the muffled roar and dust and heat of town.

Cassilis flung himself down in the deck chair on the lawn, and closed his eyes.

“ ‘ In the afternoon they came unto a land In which it seemed always afternoon.’ ”

he quoted languorously. He had a passion for the “ Lotos Eaters,” which was unintelligible in a man of such a strenuous activity. “ ‘ There is sweet music here that softlier falls,’ Poindexter,” he proceeded solemnly.

“ ‘ Than petals from blown roses on the grass.

Or night-dews on still waters,’ —

which reminds me.” He broke off, got up hastily, and walked down toward the water’s edge. “ There is quite a pretty tide running. Let ’s pull off to the church spire I see in the distance and explore the land. How I love English villages ! And the Thames is in a class by itself.”

We pulled up to the mark he had indicated, and even some distance beyond it. Cassilis insisted on wandering about the village, and poking his nose into the shops. He bought tobacco in one, and a stick in another, and a pound of butter in a third.

“ What on earth do you want with those things ? ” I asked. “ It ’s not the tobacco you smoke ; you probably have already more sticks than you know what to do with; and I have no doubt Drayton has purchased all the butter he requires.”

“ True,” he said whimsically, “ but I like buying things, and I love shops. After all, the butter will do to sit on.”

He was in a hopelessly frivolous holiday mood, which always made him a charming companion. Indeed, we both enj oyed ourselves to the full during the next two days, idling, talking, sculling, smoking, and reading.

We were at lunch on the second day and were talking of future plans. Cassilis wanted me to join him in an expedition — somewhere, and was for tossing up to see where it should be. I was half inclined to assent, having no particular ties that bound me to England after the close of the season, and was turning over possible routes, after rejecting the spin of the coin.