Array Sapper - The Complete Works of H. C. McNeile Sapper

"I suppose it was about two hours later that the Professor, having looked at his watch, rose and switched off the current. 'In about an hour, gentlemen," he remarked, 'the retort will be cool enough to take out. I suggest that you should take it with you, and having cut out the clinker you should carry out your own tests on it. Inside that clinker will be your rose-pink diamond—uncut, of course. I make you a present of it: all I ask is that you should return me my retort.'

"He blinked at us through his spectacles. 'You will forgive me if I leave you now, but I have to deliver my address to some students on the catalytic influence of chromous chloride. I fear I am already an hour and a half late, but that is nothing new.'

"And with that he bustled out of the room."

Sir Raymond paused and lit a cigarette. "You may perhaps think, Mr Blackton, that I have been unnecessarily verbose over details that are unimportant," he continued after a moment. "But my object has been to try to show you the type of man Professor Goodman is."

"You have succeeded admirably, Sir Raymond," said Blackton quietly.

"Good. Then now I will go quicker. We took his retort home, and we cut out the clinker. No one touched it except ourselves. We chipped off the outside scale, and we came to the diamond. Under our own eyes we had it cut— roughly, of course, because time was urgent. Here are the results."

He handed over a small box to Blackton, who opened it: Inside, resting on some cotton-wool, were two large rose-pink diamonds and three smaller ones worth in all, to the expert's shrewd eye, anything up to twenty-five thousand pounds. He took out a pocket lens and examined the largest, and Sir Raymond gave a short, hard laugh.

"Believe me," he said harshly, "they're genuine right enough. I wish to Heaven I could detect even the trace of a flaw. There isn't one, I tell you: they're perfect stones, and that's why we've come to you."

Blackton laid the box on the table and renewed the contemplation of his cigar. "At the moment," he remarked, 'the connection is a little obscure. However, pray continue. I assume that you have interviewed the Professor again?"

"The very next morning," said Sir Raymond. "I went round, ostensibly to return his metal bowl, and then once again I put the whole matter before him. I pointed out to him that if this discovery of his was made known, it would involve thousands of people in utter ruin.

"I pointed out to him that after all no one could say that it was a discovery which could benefit the world generally, profoundly wonderful though it was. Its sole result, so far as I could see, would be to put diamond tiaras within the range of the average scullery maid. In short, I invoked every argument I could think of to try to persuade him to change his mind. Useless, utterly useless. To do him justice, I do not believe it is simply pig-headedness. He is honestly unable to understand our point of view.

"To him it is a scientific discovery concerning carbon, and according to him carbon is so vitally important, so essentially at the root of all life, that to suppress the results of an experiment such as this would be a crime against science. He sees no harm in diamonds being as plentiful as marbles; in fact, the financial side of the affair is literally meaningless to him.

"Meaningless, Mr Blackton, as I found when I played my last card. In the name of my syndicate I offered him two hundred and fifty thousand pounds to suppress it. He rang the bell—apologised for leaving me so abruptly—and the servant showed me out. And that is how the matter stands today. In a fortnight from now his secret will be given to the world, unless..." Sir Raymond paused, and glanced at Mr Leibhaus.

"Precisely," he agreed. "Unless, as you say..."

Mr Blackton said nothing. It was not his business to help them out, though the object of their journey was now obvious.

"Unless, Mr Blackton," Sir Raymond took the plunge, "we can induce you to interest yourself in the matter."

Mr Blackton raised his eyebrows slightly. "I rather fail to see," he remarked, "how I can hope to succeed where you have failed. You appear to have exhausted every possible argument."

And now Sir Raymond was beginning to look visibly agitated. Unscrupulous business man though he was, the thing he had to say stuck in his throat. It seemed so cold-blooded, so horrible, especially in that room looking on to the sparkling lake with the peaceful, snow-tipped mountains opposite.

"It was Baron Vanderton," he stammered, "who mentioned the Comte de Guy to me. He said that in a certain matter connected, I believe, with one of the big European banking firms, the Comte de Guy had been called in. And that as a result—er—a rather troublesome international financier had—er—disappeared."

He paused abruptly as he saw Blackton's face. It was hard and merciless, and the grey-blue eyes seemed to be boring into his brain.

"Am I to understand, Sir Raymond," he remarked, "that you are trying to threaten me into helping you?"

He seemed to be carved out of stone, save for the fingers of his left hand, which played a ceaseless tattoo on his knee.

"Good heavens! no, Mr Blackton," cried the other. "Nothing of the sort, believe me. I merely mentioned the Baron to show you how we got on your trail. He told us that you were the only man in the world who would be able to help us, and then only if you were convinced the matter was sufficiently big.

"I trust that now you have heard what we have to say you will consider—like Mr Freyder—that the matter is sufficiently big to warrant your attention. You must, Mr Blackton; you really must."

He leaned forward in his excitement. "Think of it: millions and millions of money depending on the caprice of an old fool, who is really far more interested in his wretched albumen food. Why—it's intolerable." For a while there was silence, broken at length by Blackton.

"And so," he remarked calmly, "if I understand you aright, Sir Raymond, your proposal is that I should interest myself in the shall we say— removal of Professor Goodman? Or, not to mince words, in his death."

Sir Raymond shivered, and into Blackton's eyes there stole a faint contempt.

"Precisely, Mr Blackton," he muttered. "Precisely. In such a way of course that no shadow of suspicion can rest on us, or on—or on—anyone."

Mr Blackton rose: the interview was over. "I will let you know my decision after lunch," he remarked. "Shall we drink coffee together here at two o'clock? I expect my daughter will be in by then."

He opened the door and bowed them out; then he returned to the table and picked up the bottle of champagne. It was empty, as was the plate of sandwiches. He looked at his own unused glass, and with a faint shrug of his shoulders he crossed to his dispatch-case and opened it. But when the girl came in he was making a couple of entries in his book.

The first was under the heading 'Blantyre' and consisted of a line drawn through the word 'Vice'; the second was under the heading 'Leibhaus', and consisted of the one word 'Glutton' written in red. He was thorough in his ways.

"You heard?" he said, as he replaced the book.

"Every word," she answered, lighting a cigarette. "What do you propose to do?"

"There is only one possible thing to do," he remarked. "Don't you realise, my dear, that had I heard of this discovery I should have been compelled to interfere, even if they had not asked me to. In my position I could not allow a diamond slump; as you know, we have quite a few ourselves. But there is no reason why they shouldn't pay me for it...."

He smiled gently. "I shall cross to England by the Orient Express tonight."

"But surely," cried the girl, "over such a simple matter you needn't go yourself."

He smiled even more gently, and slipped his arm round her shoulders.