The ghost train

Chapter I

Captain Edward Gascoigne Morrison, M. C., D. S. 0., formerly of His Majesty’s Welsh Fusil¬ iers, but since his war service transferred to the Foreign Department of the Secret Service, looked round at the chaos of the shattered studio, and then at the figure of the girl who still sat, with the look of a frightened dove, crouched upon the model’s throne in the corner.

There had been a struggle. The floor of the great room, skylighted by an immense dust-encrusted window in the roof, lay thick with smashed pieces of sculpture and white with trodden clay and plaster-of-Paris. One small window at the side of this studio, which was on the ground floor of a back street in Cologne, allowed the thin rays of a winter sun to look in as if enquiringly on the scene of devastation. A chair standing in a semi-crippled condition on three legs — the fourth had been wrenched off and lay at some distance from the rest of its body — and a pair of tom green velvet cur- 3 tains that were huddled, still attached to pole and rings, before the model’s throne, added to the gen¬ eral wreckage.

Teddie Morrison had got control of his breath again, and he stood eyeing the girl narrowly.

64 Well? Where do you come into all this?”

In spite of himself and his suspicions he asked the question with a certain air of gallantry, almost of deference. She looked so forlorn, so helpless, and so strangely beautiful with that frightened-dove look in her eyes. Eyes of misty blue, almost grey, they were, and dilated beneath the straight black brows in terror and despair, with a gleam of hope somewhere in their depths as she leaned forward eagerly.

44 1 don’t know! I know nothing of these people! I am just a model. I was sitting waiting for Mr. d’Alvarez when all those men burst in. I’m so frightened! Help me — do help me!” She clasped her hands beseechingly.

Morrison crossed his arms with a deliberate ges¬ ture. He was not certain of the girl in spite of her air of innocence. She was too unexpectedly beauti¬ ful. He judged that she was probably a decoy; one of that gang of international rogues they had traced to Cologne and he had been detailed to ferret out. Just a beautiful foil to throw dust in the eyes of any young member of the Secret Service who happened to be impressionable; and, like the hounds they were, they had left her in the lurch, left her to shift for herself and get out of the mess as best she might. On the other hand she might be a willing accom¬ plice, though somehow that idea seemed to him fantastic.

66 What is it all about?” she begged him in an agitated voice. 66 Everything happened so quickly — and I was behind the curtains till some one dragged them down — I didn’t see-”

She clutched the draperies that enveloped her slender figure more tightly about her; and Morri¬ son remembered that that length of shimmering silk was probably her only covering. He turned his back on her and spoke over his shoulder, curtly enough.

64 Go and get dressed, in that cupboard in the corner, where your clothes are. Then we’ll talk.”

She slid off the chair with a swift backward glance and descended the steps of the throne, pick¬ ing her way among the debris on the floor; Morri¬ son heard the patter of her bare feet as she crossed it, heard the closing of the door of the little room in the corner, then turned to face it, one hand in his coat pocket.

He glanced round with his keen, bright, penetrating eyes, then with a quick movement of his left hand drew from his other pocket a small roll of greyish substance. It might have been putty, it might have been a lump of dough made with fingers that had not been washed. He held it in his hand a moment and looked down at it reflectively; then, as the sound of the opening door reached his ears, thrust it back hastily into his pocket.

The girl’s eyes, as she came over the studio floor towards him, were lowered to the bulge that little package within his hand made in his left pocket. They seemed fascinated by it; they were still held as she halted in front of him.

66 Won’t you please,” she said after a moment, earnestly, pressing her hands together again, 44 ex¬ plain all this, and then let me go home?” Her eyes were raised imploringly, innocently, to his.

66 Home? Do you live here? What are you, an English girl, doing as a sculptor’s model in Cologne?”

66 1 live with my father,” she said simply. 44 He — we are very poor, and I consented to sit to Mr. d’Alvarez — oh, I hated it!—to help him. My father doesn’t know. He thinks I’m working at a dressmaker’s. I couldn’t bear him to know.”

44 Poor kid!” Again in spite of himself and his better judgement, Morrison’s heart was touched. He couldn’t stand women’s tears, and she was begin¬ ning to cry. 46 There, there,” he went on hastily, and patted her shoulder. She dabbed her eyes, blew her nose, and returned the shred of linen that was her handkerchief to the black silk vanity bag she carried.

He searched her face, trying to read if there was anything hidden there, but she met his eyes with a brave, firm glance. 44 Poor little devil!” he thought commiseratingly. 44 Bad job for her — I’d hate to be making a mistake about her, but still-”

Aloud, he said gravely: 44 Tell me all you know about this business.”

44 This business? But I don’t know anything! I only know that Mr. d’Alvarez told me to come at ten o’clock as usual, and when I got here a few minutes early, two of his friends (they often came, I knew them quite well) were sitting talking in the studio — those that the policemen (I suppose they were policemen, though there was so much German talk that I couldn’t understand) handcuffed and took away. Oh, there must be some awful mistake! I chatted with them a few minutes and then went away and un — got ready for Mr. d’Alvarez. He was fre¬ quently a few minutes late. I was behind the screen when he came in and most of the rest happened.”

44 You don’t know then,” Morrison said slowly

— for the life of him he couldn’t believe the girl was anything but innocent — 46 that this room has been used for the last three months as the head¬ quarters of one of the most famous gangs of inter¬ national crooks—if not worse—and that the police have been watching it night and day for weeks?”

44 This room?” She looked round, wide-eyed with terror. 44 It can’t be! This sculptor’s studio!”

44 And that we’ve just recovered the famous Oppenhaupt diamonds in this very room, hidden in a lump of soft clay?” He patted his pocket.

44 Here? Impossible!” But again her eyes were rivetted on that pocket. 44 Here? And I-”

She suddenly swayed limply and would have fallen to the floor if Morrison’s right arm had not shot out protectively and held her safe. She felt very small and slim in his grasp, and a slight thrill ran through him at the contact, though he said sternly enough:

44 Come, now! Don’t faint, it would never do!”

44 No, no—I’m not going to faint.” She straight¬ ened up with an effort and released herself from his arm. 44 It was such a shock.” All at once she looked at him again, startled by a new thought. 44 But I can go — you’re not-”

44 I’m afraid,” Morrison said gently, 44 it’ll be a duty to arrest you on suspicion of being an accom¬ plice of these people.”

44 Arrest me!"

She whispered the words as if stricken with a horror too great for speech. 44 No, no, you can’t — you mustn’t! Not that!”

44 Don’t worry, you’ll be able to clear yourself easily, I’ve no doubt. We’ll wait a few minutes for Jackson, my chief assistant, to come back from see¬ ing those crooks in safe keeping, and then-”

44 Then?” she scarcely breathed the word.

He gave a little reassuring laugh.

44 Then—we’ll go to your father, and everything can be put right. But I’m bound to make enquiries, you know.” The detective spoke almost apologeti¬ cally. There was something magnetic about the proximity of this girl; he felt suddenly but strongly that he wanted to protect her, to place her in safe keeping. It was such a damned shame —-

44 Yes,” she agreed faintly, but nevertheless, she glanced round with wide eyes as if surrepti¬ tiously seeking some way of escape.

He watched her narrowly. Was she, after all, entirely innocent? Did she actually know nothing, or was she indeed a tool of that nefarious crowd? He would have staked his life at that moment that she was not a willing accessory. He made a shot at a venture.

44 When they gave you that lump of clay to bring to the studio, didn’t you guess there might be some¬ thing inside it?”

66 No — why should I?”

46 Ah! You did bring it then?” he said sharply.

She shrank away from him, silent, confused, panic-stricken before those penetrating eyes. Her own dropped. The lashes, he noticed, were very thick and black, as black as the hair that smoothly out¬ lined the shape of her head and caressed her tem¬ ples. She held her little grey-blue hat in a hand that trembled. He wanted to take it in his own, to still its quivering, but he repressed the urge.

46 Sometimes,” she admitted in a low voice, 46 they gave me small quantities of a special sort of clay D’Alvarez used for modelling, to bring to him.”

44 They?” he studied her closely.

44 Schnitz — and the others. Sculptor friends of his. Their studio is at-”

44 Yes — I know all about those studios! The scoundrels! No more sculptors than I am. Those pieces of clay contained valuable gems — probably the whole Oppenhaupt collection, worth a hundred thousand — stolen last May from their London house.”

Her straightforward statement had convinced him, against his better judgement, that the girl was innocent in spite of appearances; he reached out a hand and put it reassuringly on her shoulder.

66 Don’t worry, little girl; I’ll see you through this. We’ve got most of the gang and I think their little schemes are nearly at an end. You’ll trust me, won’t you?”

Her beautiful eyes swam in tears as they met

his.

66 Oh, thank you — thank you! It’s all so queer-”

44 Yes, it is — very queer.” His voice was grim. 44 We’ve been working on this crowd for months in conjunction with the German police. This is only one of their little adventures. If I’m not mistaken, they’re flying for higher game than this collection of jewels, valuable as they are.”

44 Higher game? What?”

The detective shook his head. He suddenly real¬ ised that he had already talked more than he ought to this girl, for a man whose business it was to dis¬ trust everybody; but there was something about those eyes of hers, something so queerly compel¬ ling—

44 I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to disclose that. Anyway, they’re only suspicions; we’ve no evidence as yet.”

She was silent a moment, apparently lost in thought; then she gave a sigh as if she had all at once become alive again to the peril of the situation in which she found herself.

44 Please,” she begged anxiously, 44 mayn’t I go now?”

44 Directly. Jackson should be back — ” Then he glanced down at his wrist-watch. It was hard to meet those eyes and deny her any request; he took refuge in the coward’s part of avoiding them, and almost as if she divined that by the uncanny sixth sense women possess, she laid her small hand on his arm and shook it gently, inviting his attention to meeting her glance again.

44 He should be back now,” Morrison remarked, a little uneasily. 44 He had only to — ah!”

Footsteps sounded in the wooden corridor out¬ side, and an instant later the door was thrown open. Jackson, a burly, middle-aged, grey-moustached sergeant of police, stood before them. He was pant¬ ing as though he had been running, and he checked the words on his lips as he caught sight of the girl.

44 A moment with you, sir,” he said hurriedly, and gave a sideways nod of the head towards the corridor.

Morrison slipped outside into the passage, hold¬ ing the door half-closed behind him.

44 Well?” he said briskly.

44 We lost two of ’em, sir, I’m afraid,” Jackson announced with philosophical calm. 64 One of ’em had some snuff in his pocket, and before we could get the bracelets on him he’d chucked it in the con¬ stables’ faces and made off. In the crowd of the Neumarkt they were gone in a moment. The slick¬ est lot I’ve ever been up against,” he finished lugubriously.

44 Damnation!” Morrison was decidedly disap¬ pointed and perturbed at the intelligence, and was at no pains to hide the fact. 44 That’s a bad blow, Jackson. A very bad blow. Which two?”

44 Schnitz and D’Alvarez, I’m afraid, sir.”

The detective groaned. He stood nonplussed a moment; the lines of his good-looking young face set hard and firmly. It was devilish hard luck, just as he was pulling off the biggest scoop of his career, a scoop that would mean promotion and set him firmly on the next rung of the ladder; hard luck indeed! He hauled himself together with an effort.

44 You did all you could, Jackson — it wasn’t your fault, though it’s a bit of a staggerer. We’ve bagged most of the jewels, anyway. Got the rest of ’em all safe?”

44 Safe as houses, sir. We’ll get ’em across as soon as the extradition warrant arrives. What about the young female, sir?” He jerked a thumb towards the studio.

66 I’ll see to her. She’s not one of them, but I’m going to make a few enquiries,” Morrison replied noncommittally.

66 Right, sir.” Jackson strode off down the pas¬ sage again, and the detective pushed the door open and went back into the studio. Then he gave an exclamation of dismayed surprise. The room was empty.

Chapter II

Morrison stood in the middle of the studio and glanced quickly about him, dazed for a moment by this second shock following on Jackson’s piece of bad news; then he stepped over the pieces of broken statuary and furniture to the small inner room, a mere cupboard in the wall, where the girl had dressed. That also was bare. There was, in fact, nothing whatever in it but a few pegs on the wall and a broken looking-glass. He darted across to the narrow window, and there, at his feet, was the clue to her disappearance.

He stooped and picked it up, the small hat she had held in her hand; a grey-blue cloth or soft felt, the same colour as those dove-grey eyes. The win¬ dow was only wide enough to admit of the passage of a very slender little body such as hers. It was too small for his shoulders; he had to lean out side¬ ways, and, as he had foreseen, the quick glances he threw right and left were unproductive of result. She had completely vanished, and the street in which the studio was situated (one of those tortu¬ ous, dark and narrow lanes of the old inner town, at 15 one end of which he could catch a glimpse of the medieval towers of the Neumarkt) was now, at mid-day, almost empty of pedestrians. In the dis¬ tance showed the colossal equestrian statue of Fred¬ erick, gilded by the weak rays of the November sun. The house was almost in a corner; the street, in fact, practically a cul-de-sac.

He withdrew his head, puzzled and oddly de¬ pressed ; and with the grey hat still in his hand tried to school his brain to a little heavy thinking.

What a fool he had been to trust a woman’s eyes! It might, he thought grimly, be that she was the key to the whole problem, now that the principal movers in the game, the man known as Herr Otto Schnitz, and the other, his colleague, Rupert d’Alvarez, had got free again. They were, as he well knew, the head and brains of the whole concern; and with that girl in his hands — if indeed she did not prove her¬ self the innocent she claimed to be, and her flight seemed to give that supposition the lie — he might yet have run them to earth. Now-

He turned back to the room with a sigh, thrust¬ ing the little hat into the capacious coat pocket which already held a small roll of soft china clay, and trying to put the memory of those frightened eyes away from him. For the next hour he submit¬ ted the room that had been long used as the headquarters of the gang in the guise of a studio to the most rigorous search. The only pieces of plaster works, masks, and casts of limbs left intact after the struggle (and they were obviously cheap, machinemade things designed to throw enquirers off the scent) that had ensued on the entrance of the police, he smashed to atoms, dissecting each rigorously; and when he strolled carelessly off the premises, giving a casual and scarcely perceptible nod to two lolling figures bracing up the pillars of the front door as he passed, he was satisfied that he had got all that was likely to be useful to him out of the place. But the grey eyes haunted him uneasily as he made his way back to his hotel.

He found Philip Heath, a young assistant of his, busily writing at a small table by the window as he entered the rather dingy room on the first floor of the second-rate hotel they occupied in an obscure street. Heath was a merry-looking boy of twenty-four or thereabouts, freckled, blue-eyed, and gen¬ erally with an air of regarding life as one enormous joke. Morrison and he were greatly attached to each other, and had been concerned together in a variety of adventures in that underworld of crime in which it was their business—and Heath’s intense pleasure — to move.

66 Heath,” he said, “ give me a large Bock. An immense Bock. I need it, old son.” He threw his hat on the table and dropped wearily into a chair by the stove, neglecting to remove his overcoat.

Heath rose to ring the bell for the waiter.

44 Two large Bocks? ” he amended cheerfully.

64 Thanks — I could do with two.”

64 Oh, I say! One was for me — Three large Bocks ,” he ordered with a wide grin as the waiter appeared, and came and stood by the mantelpiece, looking down with affectionate concern at his friend’s tired figure.

44 Don’t worry, Captain. We haven’t done so badly, y’know. The Chief will be no end pleased about the diamonds. That was the job, after all, wasn’t it? The recovery of the stones.”

44 Glad you think so.” Morrison sounded de¬ spondent. 44 1 feel completely bunkered. Germany’s a big place to hide in. Of course we’ve got all the stations watched, as well as the docks and the air¬ way stations, but it’s hardly likely they’ll try the obvious means of escape, and it may be weeks before we pick up the threads again. We’re pretty certain to get those two, eventually, of course, but — ah!” He broke off as the waiter entered with the drinks, and lifting one of the three tall glasses from the tray, drained it.

44 That’s better. You see, Heath, as Jackson probably informed you, there’s a third party. They’ve been using a girl as a go-between; she’s been smug¬ gling fortunes in jewels across the city hidden in pieces of soft clay. Well, she got off, too. Slipped away while my attention was engaged with Jackson for half a minute.”

Heath whistled. 64 Little apples! A girl, eh? That’s the devil! Girls are so beastly clever.”

66 Whether she’s a party to the goings-on, I can’t say. I’m inclined to think she’s a mere dupe. Now, she apparently managed to drop out of that window in that so-called studio, and make off down the street without those two boobs guarding the door spotting her. How d’you suppose she did it, Heath?”

46 Either she was extremely spry, or else they’re in league with the police,” Heath suggested. 44 These Germans have never given us more assistance than they were obliged to. Captain, that’s a certainty.”

Morrison, sunk deep in his chair, chin on chest, remained thoughtfully silent.

44 Anyhow,” he said presently, 44 1 propose — unless I’m recalled — to stay in Cologne for a bit and try and get on the track of ’em. There’s noth¬ ing much for you to do here, Heath, and I think you’d better get back to London. You’ve been no end of a help to me, but there doesn’t seem much more you can do. Any letters or orders?”

Heath crossed to the table, picked up and handed to him a few papers.

64 These messages came ten minutes ago on the private wire. The Chief seems to think that that policeman’s death down in Cornwall is worth look¬ ing into, when we’re through here. Seems to think it’s important — of course, I’d much rather be here with you, Captain,” he added boyishly, 64 but if you think-”

44 Better toddle off by the night boat,” Morrison advised. 44 Rather queer case, that chap being dis¬ covered with his head bashed in on a lonely Cornish road.” He handed the papers back after examining them; rose, and went to the window, looking out absently.

44 There’s one thing makes me believe that girl’s innocent,” he reverted to the former conversation, speaking slowly with his back towards his friend. 44 She was — undressed, ready for sitting as a model to that fake sculptor. Rather too realistic a perform¬ ance if it was all a put-up job, don’t you agree? You see there was no necessity for the — the altogether; he could just have been modelling her hands, or her feet, or her head. But still, one never knows. Women are beastly clever, as you so wisely remark, Heath.”

Heath said nothing for a moment. He was watching the detective with a certain amount of anxiety. This despondent mood was a new one to him, rather alarming in one so keenly capable of sizing up the various values in a situation, so philosophically sus¬ picious of everybody, even of the most blatantly innocent, and withal so cool-headed and even-tem¬ pered. Something seemed to have happened to the Captain that had rather badly shaken him, hardly accountable for by the escape of those thieves. That was all in the day’s work, serious though it might be; for Morrison certainly could never be accused of negligence in the performance of his duty.

The boy was rather puzzled and worried on his friend’s account. A thought struck him. He voiced it, impulsively.

46 Morrison, you don’t want to believe her guilty?”

Teddie turned from the window and looked straight into the other man’s eyes.

46 1 don’t, Heath, and that’s the truth.”

44 Little apples!” murmured Heath in an amazed whisper.

44 Get me the Yard, will you, Grube?”

Captain Morrison had arrived at his rooms in Adam Street, Adelphi, three days later, in response to a wire from the Chief; tubbed and shaved after his journey back from Cologne, as he sat looking over some letters in his comfortable little sitting-room, the detective presented the appearance of a well-groomed, good-looking, energetic young man with a capacity for work. There was a concentra¬ tion in the eye, a squareness of the jaw, and a set determination of the mouth, which albeit exhibited a certain humour and a sweetness of temper to which Grube, who had been his batman in the war and had remained with Teddie Morrison ever since, could bear witness.

46 You’re through, sir.”

Morrison put down the envelope he was slitting and took the receiver from Grube’s hand.

64 Hallo, Chief, that you? Morrison speaking. Yes, sir, just back, crossed by the night boat. Noth¬ ing very urgent? Very well, I’ll be round to report in an hour’s time, but I thought you’d better know I’d arrived.”

He heard the Chief’s voice saying genially:

44 Good. I suppose you think you’re a whale of a feller having nabbed those stones, eh?”

Morrison gave a rueful chuckle.

44 On the contrary, I’m feeling like a particu¬ larly small-sized sprat just now, sir. You know the two heads of the gang gave us the slip — got away in that jabbering crowd of foreigners in the square — completely diddled us.”

66 So I gathered. I suppose you have taken the necessary steps?”

44 Oh, rather. You’ll have seen Jackson already. We’ll get ’em yet. We seem to have rounded up the rest pretty thoroughly.” He hesitated the merest trifle; and the Chief appeared to read something sig¬ nificant into that hesitation at the other end of the line.

66 Got ’em all, you think, except Schnitz and D’Alvarez? Anybody else?”

Morrison paused a moment before replying.

66 There was a woman,” he said; and the figure of the girl with the frightened eyes rose visibly before him as he spoke.

66 But I don’t think she was anything more than a tool,” he went on with suspiciously elaborate nonchalance. 66 She got away anyhow. Slipped out of the window while my back was turned for a second talking to Jackson, who’d returned with news of the escape.”

66 Ah!” The Chief’s voice sounded cool and deliberate as he repeated the word. He had had the whole story from Jackson, of course. 46 Doesn’t look like innocence, does it?”

66 1 admit it doesn’t, Chief; but still I’ve got a feeling-”

66 Doesn’t do to have feelings where women of that sort are concerned. Take my advice, young fel¬ ler, cut ’em out. And now, another piece of advice. You’ve been working pretty hard lately, Morrison. Take a few weeks’ holiday; you’ll come back all the fitter.”

66 But I’m perfectly fit, sir!”

Morrison was startled; his heart dropped. He knew what that suggestion meant coming from the Chief at such a moment. It conveyed, delicately and genially enough, the fact that the Chief didn’t con¬ sider his work quite up to that pitch of concentrated service on the job that was required. It meant that the Chief recognised no excuse for letting those two master-criminals slide out of the net; that the cap¬ ture of the jewels themselves was but a secondary consideration in comparison with the urgency of stopping the evil at its source. It meant that he had given the young detective a job just a little bit too heavy for him; and that he had — well, not quite failed, perhaps — but that the Chief’s confidence had not been so perfectly placed as he had thought it to be.

“ And I’m in the middle of the business, Chief,”

he urged. 44 1 don’t want to let go at this juncture — I’d like to finish my job.”

“ You’ll come back all the fresher, my boy, and have your chance yet.” The voice, kindly still, was emphatic enough, and Morrison knew it was no good kicking against the pricks. His heart dropped a further inch or two.

44 Or get onto some light thing if you don’t want a rest,” the Chief advised. 44 What about that Cor¬ nish business?”

44 I’ve got Heath onto that.” Teddie could not keep the disappointment from his voice. To offer him the solving of some small affair connected with a policeman’s death in a remote country village which would in all probability turn out to be a 44 natural causes ” matter, when he was in the throes of working on one of the biggest hauls of the time! He must have failed badly indeed in the Chief’s eyes.

44 Well, good-bye, Morrison. I’ll be here to see you about twelve, when you can give me all your details. Meantime, think over my advice. ’Bye!”

Morrison replaced the receiver slowly.

He felt quite badly shaken by the Chief’s atti¬ tude. Thinking it over, he realised it was after his mention of the girl that he had got that nasty little piece of 66 advice ”— advice which was, as he well knew, a very definite command. Surely the Chief didn’t think she had anything to do with the escape — didn’t imagine him neglecting his duty because he was blinded by a woman’s eyes!

Anyhow, the Chief had administered a most emphatic snub, just in a moment, too, when he was thinking he hadn’t done so badly. That necklace of diamonds alone was supposed to be worth forty thousand pounds. Still, he had to admit the very fact of its value was earnest of the gravity of the thieves’ escape. They were abroad in the world to conduct even more nefarious schemes — and it was he, Morrison, who had been given the chance as a brilliant young member of the Foreign Department, to bring them to earth.