Amiable Charlatan — 03 - Cullen Gives Advice, part 1
CHAPTER III--CULLEN GIVES ADVICE
At ten o'clock the following morning my telephone bell rang and a visitor was announced.
I did not catch the name given me, and it was only when I opened the door to him in response to his ring that I recognized Mr. Cullen.
In morning clothes, which consisted in his case of a blue serge suit that needed brushing and a bowler hat of extinct shape, he seemed to me, if possible, a little more objectionable than I had found him the previous night.
He presented himself, however, in a wholly non-aggressive spirit.
"Mr. Walmsley," he said, as he took the chair to which I motioned him, "I have called to see you very largely in your own interests."
I murmured something to the effect that I was extremely obliged.
"I have made inquiries concerning you," he went on, "and I find that you not only have a blameless record but that you are possessed of considerable means, and that you belong to a highly esteemed county family."
"And what of it, Mr. Cullen?"
I asked.
"This," he answered, "that I feel it my duty to warn you against the companions with whom you spent a portion of last evening."
"You mean Mr. and Miss Parker?"
"I mean Mr. and Miss Parker."
"Are you making any definite charges against this young lady and gentleman?"
I inquired after a moment's pause.
"Very definite charges indeed!"
he replied.
"I warn you, Mr. Walmsley, that this man and his daughter are in bad repute with us, and to be seen associated with them is to bring yourself under police surveillance.
We had a special warning when they sailed from New York, and since their arrival in London they have already been concerned in two or three very shady transactions."
"If they break the law," I inquired, "why do you not arrest them?"
"Because I have had bad luck--rotten bad luck!"
Mr. Cullen declared firmly.
"I am perfectly convinced that this Mr. Parker, as he calls himself, has been financing one of the greatest artists in banknote counterfeits ever known to the police.
I am perfectly convinced that Mr. Parker left this young man in Adam Street last night, with a packet of notes upon his person for which he had just paid two hundred pounds, and if I could have arrested him then the game would have been up.
He dodged me by going into the Cecil, leaving by the back way and coming through the Savoy; but I picked him up again within two minutes of his reaching Stephano's. "Obviously with your collusion--you'll pardon me, sir, but there the facts are--he was seated at your table as though in the middle of a dinner.
I
had him searched, but there wasn't a thing on him.
I am not going to ask you what he did with the notes he had--whether he palmed them off on you or not--but I will simply say that between the time of his entering Stephano's and the time of my searching him he got rid of a thousand pounds' worth of counterfeit notes."
"Sounds very clever of him!"
I remarked.
"How do you know that he didn't get rid of them to some one in either the Cecil or the Savoy?"
"Because," Mr. Cullen explained, "he was followed by one of my men through both places and not lost sight of for a single second.
You see, I made sure he would come to Stephano's and I was on the other side of the Strand, but I had left a man in case he went the other way.
I tell you he was under the strictest surveillance the whole time, except during the few minutes--I might almost say seconds--when he disappeared in the restaurant."
"Anything else against him?"
I asked.
"I am not inclined," Mr. Cullen continued slowly, "to mention specifically the various cases that have come under my notice and in which I believe him to be concerned; but, among other things, he is a frequenter of half the gambling houses in London and a tout for their owners.
Trouble follows wherever he goes.
But, Mr. Walmsley, mark my words!
I am not a man given to idle speech and I assure you that within a few weeks--perhaps within a few days--I shall have him; aye, and the young lady, too!
You don't want to be mixed up in this sort of business, sir.
I am here to give you the advice to sheer off!
They'll only rob you and bring you, too, under suspicion."
I lit a cigarette and stood on the hearthrug with my hands behind me.
"Mr. Cullen," I said, "it is, of course, very kind of you to come to me in this disinterested manner.
You don't seem to have anything to gain by it, so I will accept your attitude as being a bona fide one.
I will, if I may, be equally frank with you.
I met both Mr. Parker and his daughter last night for the first time----" "Then that dinner was a plant!"
Mr. Cullen interrupted swiftly.
"I knew it!"
I ignored the interruption.
"For the first time," I repeated; "and I find them both most delightful companions.
As to how far our acquaintance may progress, that is entirely a matter for chance to decide.
You have doubtless come here with very good motives, but I see no reason why I should accept your statements concerning Mr. Parker and his daughter.
You understand?
My suggestion is that you are mistaken.
Until I have proved them to be other than they represent themselves to be," I added with infinite subtlety, "I shall continue to derive pleasure from their society."
Mr. Cullen rose at once to his feet.
"My warning has been given, sir," he said.
"It only remains for me now to wish you good morning, and to assure you most regretfully that your name will be added to those whom Scotland Yard thinks it well to watch and that your movements from place to place will be noted."
"I trust that Scotland Yard will benefit," I replied politely, and showed him out.
At half past ten I rang up 3771A Gerrard.
The telephone was answered almost immediately by a man, apparently a servant.
I inquired for Mr. Parker and in a moment or two I heard his voice at the telephone.
"This is Joseph H. Parker speaking.
Who are you?"
"I am Paul Walmsley.
You told me I might ring up between ten and eleven."
"Sure!"
was the prompt reply.
"My dear fellow, I am delighted to hear from you.
None the worse for our little adventure last night, I hope?"
"Not in the least," I assured him.
"On the contrary I am looking forward to another."
"You shall have one," was the delighted answer.
"What about--What is it, Eve?
Excuse me for one moment, Mr. Walmsley."
Mr. Parker was apparently dragged away from the telephone.
I waited impatiently.
He returned in a moment or two.
His voice sounded as though he were a little irritated.
"Sorry," he said.
"I was going to make a little suggestion to you for this evening, but my daughter here doesn't fall in with it.
They will have their own way--these girls."
"It's very disappointing!"
I said.
"Don't you think you could prevail on her?"
"Look here!"
Mr. Parker continued.
"I'll tell you what: Let's meet accidentally at dinner tonight.
I'll talk Eve round before then.
You drop into Stephano's for dinner at about seven-thirty.
Then, when you see us there, you can come over and join us."
"Thank you very much," I replied heartily.
"By the by, I suppose you couldn't tell me your address?
I should like to send Miss Parker some flowers."
Mr. Parker obviously hesitated.
"Better not," he decided regretfully--"not this morning, at any rate.
Eve is a bit peculiar; and if you come into our little scheme and it goes wrong the less you know of us the better.
See you later!"
I did see Mr. Parker later, but not quite so late as the time appointed.
He was in the American bar at the Milan when I looked in there just before luncheon and was talking to two of the most ferocious and objectionable- looking ruffians I had ever seen in my life.
He glanced at me blandly, but without any sign of recognition, save that I fancied I caught the slightest twitch of his left eyebrow.
I took the hint and did not join him.
My reward came presently; for, after leaving the room with his two acquaintances, Mr. Parker strolled back again, and coming straight over to me clapped me on the shoulder.
"This is capital!"
he exclaimed.
"We meet tonight?"
"Without a doubt," I assured him.
He drew me a little on one side.
"Say," he inquired, scratching the side of his chin, "have you any objection to a bit of a scrap?"
"Not the slightest," I replied, "so long as Miss Parker is out of it!"
"Good boy!"
Mr. Parker pronounced.
"Yes; we'll keep her out of it, all right.
I shall count on you then.
Just keep yourself in reserve.
We'll talk it over at dinner time.
You just stroll in casually and I'll call you over.
By the by," he added, lowering his voice, "did you see those two fellows I was with?"
"I saw them!"
I confessed.
"They were just a trifle noticeable."
Mr. Parker came a little nearer to me.
He accentuated his words by beating on the palm of his left hand with two fingers of his right.
"Absolutely, my dear Walmsley, two of the most unmitigated and desperate ruffians on either continent!"
"They looked it," I agreed heartily.
"Their record," Mr. Parker continued--"their police record, I mean--is one of the most wonderful things ever put on paper.
The marvelous thing is how, even for a few minutes, they should be out of prison!
Did you notice the one with the cast in his eye?"
"I did," I admitted.
"They used to call him Angel Jake," Mr. Parker proceeded confidentially.
"He was sentenced to death once for shooting a policeman, but there was some technicality--he was tried in the wrong court--so he got off."
"A very interesting acquaintance," I remarked with utterly wasted sarcasm.
"They're fairly up to their necks in trouble, both of them, on the other side," Mr. Parker declared with relish; "and they're kind o' looking for it here."
I took him by the arm and led him out of the bar into a retired corner of the smoking room.
We sat upon a divan and had the room almost to ourselves.
"How is Miss Parker this morning?"
I asked.
"Fine!"
her father replied.
"I told her about the flowers and it made her quite homesick.
Girls miss that sort of thing, you know; and over here, living under a sort of cloud, as it were, one can't risk making many friends."
It was a very good opening for me and I took advantage of it.
"Why do you choose to live under a cloud, Mr. Parker?"
I asked.
"My dear fellow," he replied earnestly, "I don't altogether choose.
I have been frank with you.
It's my life."
"If it were only a question of money----" I began tentatively.
"A question of money!"
Mr. Parker interrupted.
"Isn't everything a question of money?
Say, what do you mean exactly?"
"I mean that I admire your daughter, sir--I admire her immensely," I told him.
"If she'd have me I'd marry her to-morrow, I am not what you would call a wealthy man, but I have enough money for all reasonable purposes."
Mr. Parker was clearly staggered.
He stroked his waistcoat for a moment in an absent sort of way.
"This takes my breath away!"
he exclaimed.
"Let us understand exactly what it means."
"It means," I told him bluntly, "that I'll make a settlement upon your daughter and give you enough to live on."
He looked first at me and then at the carpet.
He began to whistle softly.
"And they always told me," he murmured under his breath, "that you Britishers were so cautious!
Why, you know nothing about us at all except what I've told you, and goodness knows that isn't much of a recommendation!
Besides, I may not have told you half!"
"I am willing to take my risk," I declared.
"I simply don't care.
Once in a lifetime a man has that feeling for a woman.
If he is wise he goes nap on it.
I have never had it before and I am not going to let go.
I feel that if I do I may regret it all my life.
I don't want any other woman in this world except your daughter, and what I possess in life worth having I am willing to give to make sure of her."
Mr. Parker sat for several moments in profound silence.
I could not make out what his mood was, He seemed neither unduly depressed nor elated.
He was obviously puzzled, however--puzzled to know precisely what to do or what to say.
He sat in the middle of the divan with one thumb in his waistcoat pocket and the other hand flat upon the table.
His round face was innocent of smile or frown.
Yet I knew he was taking what I had said seriously, though for some reason or other it did not seem to give him unqualified pleasure.
"Well, well!"
he said at last.
"You've spoken up like a man, anyway--and like a man who knows what he wants.
I can't tell how to answer you.
I have never lived on any one yet.
Sponging's never been in my line.
I have enjoyed living on my wits.
And Eve--she's a little that way, too.
Makes me kind of sorry I've let her go about with me so much.
It's a wonderful cloak of respectability you'd throw over us; but I'm wondering whether it's large enough!"
"As my wife--" I began.
"Oh, yes!
you'd gather her in all right to start with," he interrupted;
"but there are other things," he added, turning a little toward me and looking me in the face.
"Suppose she didn't turn out just as you thought!
She's a wild, high-spirited sort of creature--is Eve.
She loves the music and the rattle of life.
I can't fancy her in one of those out-of-the-way, God-forsaken little mudholes you call an English village, sitting in an early-Victorian drawing-room all the afternoon, waiting for the vicar's wife to come to tea, and taking a walk before dinner for entertainment, with an umbrella and mackintosh."
"You've been reading Jane Austen," I told him.
"Never heard of her," he replied promptly.
"I once--but never mind.
Just keep this to yourself for a bit, my boy.
If we come to any arrangement there are one or two things we've got on that we might have to drop.
We'll think this over.
So long until this evening."
He bustled away then, evidently anxious to escape any further conversation.
I went about my business, which consisted of a visit to my lawyer's and a couple of rubbers of bridge at my club before dinner.
At half past seven precisely I strolled into Stephano's. I had scarcely taken my table before Mr. Parker and Eve entered.
Contrary to his usual custom, Mr. Parker was wearing a dress coat, white waistcoat and white tie; and Eve looked exquisite in a low-necked gown of white silk.
Mr. Parker, according to his promise, at once beckoned me over.
"My dear boy," he said, "I insist upon it that you sit down and dine with us.
Last night I dined with you.
To be literal, I ate off your plate.
Tonight I return the compliment."
I had no idea of refusing, but I was watching Eve with some anxiety.
Her attitude seemed a little negative.
However, she welcomed me pleasantly.
"Well," she asked, "is your conscience beginning to prick yet?"
"My conscience," I replied, "is about as imaginary a thing as my early- Victorian drawing-room.
I can assure you I have the most profound admiration for your father.
I think he is one of the cleverest men I ever met."
She seemed a little taken aback.
My tone, I felt quite sure, was convincing.
"Of course," she remarked, "it is possible I have formed a wrong idea of Englishmen.
I have met only one or two."
"I should say it is highly probable," I agreed.
"What scheme of villainy is before us to-night?
I claim a share in it at any rate."
She shook her head.
"Not to-night, I am afraid."
Mr. Parker, with the menu in front of him, was busy with the waiter and a _maitre d'hotel_.
I dropped my voice a little.
"Why not?
Are you going to the theater?"
"To the opera."
"You love music?"
I asked.
She leaned a little toward me.
Her hair almost brushed my cheek as she whispered: "We love jewelry!"
I flatter myself that not a muscle of my face moved.
"No place like the opera!"
I remarked.
"You should do well there with a little luck."
This time I certainly scored.
She looked at me fixedly for a moment.
Then she laughed softly.
"I want a pearl necklace," she said.
"What about the one you have on?"
She held it out toward me.
"Imitations, unfortunately," she sighed.
"They may look very nice, but they don't feel like the real thing."
"Why can't I go to the opera with you?"
I suggested.
"Because there are no vacant seats anywhere near ours," she replied.
"You see we happen to know whom we are going to sit near."
"Anyhow, I think I shall go," I decided, "I may be able to come and talk to you between the acts at any rate."
Mr. Parker, having finished giving his orders, joined in the conversation, and we dined together quite cheerily.
For educated Americans they seemed very ignorant of English life, and I was not surprised to hear that it was their first visit to Europe.
They listened with interest to a great deal that I told them.
It was only as we were preparing to leave the place that I asked Mr. Parker a definite question.
"Tell me," I whispered, "have you really any plans for to-night?"
He nodded.
"Sure!
We are in luck just now.
There's nothing like backing it."
"Are those fellows I saw you with this morning at the Milan in it?
If so I am going to take Miss Parker away.
There are limits--" He patted me on the back.
"That little affair is off for to-night at any rate.
A lady we are very anxious to meet is going to the opera.
The little girl wants a pearl necklace.
Well, we shall see!"
"You've thought over what I said?
Have you mentioned it to her?"
"Only kind of hinted at it.
It's no good putting it too straight to her.
She's got the bit between her teeth and she'll need to be humored."
Eve had gone to fetch her cloak and we were alone outside the door.
I
looked at him steadfastly--he was so very pink and white, so very cheerful, so utterly optimistic!
"You've never seen the inside of an English prison, have you, Mr. Parker?"
I asked.
He stared at me blankly.
"I am not thinking about you or myself," I went on.
"She's so dainty and sweet!
She looks like a child who has never known an hour of rough usage in her life.
They wouldn't leave her much of that, you know."
I had certainly succeeded in making an impression this time.
Mr. Parker's smooth forehead was wrinkled; his face was clouded.
"You are right, Mr. Walmsley," he admitted.
"I wish--I wish she would listen to reason.
We'll have a talk together--the three of us--soon.
You've no idea how difficult it is!
She doesn't know fear--can't realize danger.
Hush!
Here she comes.
It will only set her against you if she thinks you are trying to influence me behind her back."
Mr. Parker's car was waiting and we drove together to Covent Garden.
I
left them in the vestibule and went to call on some of my friends.
