Acting on Impulse Read online

  “Of course I did! It’s true, too. Well, I’ll see what I can do for you in the matter of Burton, Caryu’s secretary, that you were asking about. Anything else?”

  “No, not at present, thanks. I must be getting along.”

  Winthrop laughed, and held out his hand.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, I suppose?”

  “Oh, I’m sure to come along to report,” Linckes answered, and went out, his temples throbbing with excitement.

  IV.

  A MONTH later Linckes was shown into Caryu’s study. Caryu looked at him hopefully, for there was a glitter in Linckes’ eyes, and a very purposeful look.

  “You’ve got a fresh suspicion?” he said, with the glimmer of a smile.

  Linckes sat down opposite him.

  “Yes, sir, I have. And I’ve come to ask your help.”

  “Have you, indeed? I’m sure I have to imitate the famous Watson, haven’t I? I shall meekly do your bidding, being myself quite in the dark.”

  Linckes laughed.

  “That is about the size of it, sir,” he confessed. “But I really believe I’ve got on to the right track at last.”

  “Any clue?”

  “No, sir. Pretty strong suspicion, though.”

  A shadow crossed Caryu’s face.

  “Only a suspicion, Linckes? I seem to have listened to so many.”

  “This time it amounts to a conviction, sir. And, because I’m practically certain in my own mind, I’m going to have the cheek to ask you to do something that’ll seem quite insane to you.”

  Caryu moved a paperweight uncertainly.

  “I’m not at all sure that I shall comply, then. What is it?”

  Linckes clasped and unclasped his fingers rather nervously.

  “Sir, you’ve got the plans of the new plane here, haven’t you?”

  The elder man smiled a little.

  “You ought to know, Roger. You and your colleagues are supposed to be keeping an eye on them. But if you imagine they can be taken out of this new safe, you’re wrong. No one knows the secret of the combination except myself.”

  “I know, sir. I don’t expect the thief to attempt it. I want you to tell Sir Charles, when you see him tomorrow, that you have made one or two suggestions on the plans, and are sending them by your secretary to his house for him to see.”

  Caryu reddened.

  “What are you driving at?” he asked levelly. “What do you mean?”

  “Just that, sir. I think Mr. Fortescue carries documents to Sir Charles’ house fairly often? Minor documents, I mean.”

  “Certainly. But I do not understand—”

  “I know, sir. I want you to give Mr. Fortescue a package containing blank sheets. Keep the plans in your safe.”

  Caryu drew himself up. “Linckes, you must please explain yourself. I don’t know what crack-brained notion you have got into your head, but if you are insinuating that Sir Charles is the criminal, I may as well tell you that it is an impertinent and foolish suggestion.”

  “I’m not insinuating anything, sir. I can’t even tell you who I suspect. But I do beg of you to just do as I ask without mentioning my name. It can’t do any harm, and I believe it’ll enable me to find the man who’s betraying us all.”

  Caryu’s face softened a little.

  “You think that whoever is doing it will try to intercept Fortescue on his way to Winthrop’s house? It is rather improbable, isn’t it? He has only a few yards to go.”

  “That’s just what I’m counting on, sir. It’s too short a distance for him to take a taxi. He doesn’t, I know, for I’ve often been with Winthrop when he has come over with a letter for you, or, as I said, some minor document.”

  Caryu was silent for a moment. He looked Linckes over, frowning.

  “And when Fortescue comes to Winthrop and gives him a package of blank sheets,” he said sarcastically, “what am I to say to Winthrop? You don’t seem to understand that if that happens my action in sending blank sheets amounts to a very serious insult.”

  “No, sir. If Fortescue does arrive, unmolested, and with the blank sheets, you can explain why it was done. You don’t suspect Sir Charles. I haven’t said that I do. It’s quite simple.”

  Caryu smiled faintly. “Very well. I will tell Winthrop that among other things I am sending him the plan of the new ’plane. Are you satisfied?”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you!”

  Linckes rose and prepared to depart.

  “What happens if Fortescue is sandbagged?” inquired Caryu. “What will he think of your little plot?”

  “Not much chance of that, sir,” Linckes grinned. “From Park Lane to Arlington Street isn’t a far cry, and it’s never exactly deserted. But don’t tell Fortescue anything, will you? Not even that you are supposed to be sending plans. Send him off at the usual time.”

  “‘The usual time’ covers a wide margin,” remarked Caryu. “I shall send him at about six in the evening. That is the most usual time.”

  “Then tell Winthrop, sir, casually. And thanks awfully!”

  He shook Caryu’s outstretched hand, and went to the door.

  “Mind you, I think you’ve got a bee in your bonnet,” Caryu warned him. “If you haven’t—well, it’ll be a fairly large feather in the bonnet instead.”

  V.

  “GOT another fit of the blues, Winthrop?”

  Sir Charles looked up, smiling.

  “Getting rather frequent, aren’t they? Sorry I’m such a surly brute. It’s very nice of you to consent to stay and dine with me.”

  Linckes leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs.

  “It’s jolly nice of you to ask me,” he retaliated. “I don’t wonder you’re feeling depressed.”

  Winthrop gave a short sigh.

  “’Tisn’t very surprising, is it? We don’t seem to get any forrader, do we? Since your ingenious Burton theory there haven’t been any fresh suspicions, have there?”

  Linckes turned sharply. Caryu’s secretary had just come into the room. Linckes looked him over quickly, conscious of a sinking sensation of disappointment somewhere in the region of his stomach.

  “Good-evening, Sir Charles! Mr. Caryu sent me with one or two things for you to sign.”

  Winthrop had risen.

  “Yes, that’s right. Oh, don’t go, Linckes! It’s nothing private.”

  Dully Linckes watched Fortescue lay his dispatch-case on the table and insert a key into the lock. After a moment’s twisting and turning he drew it out again and looked up at Winthrop, rather white about the mouth.

  “Funny!” he said uneasily. “It won’t open!”

  Linckes’ heart leapt. He lounged back at his ease, outwardly careless, but his eyes never left Winthrop’s face.

  “Won’t open? Perhaps you’ve got hold of the wrong key?”

  “No; it’s a special lock and key.”

  Fortescue’s eyes were rather wide.

  “Then something must have gone wrong with the lock,” said Winthrop impatiently. “You must force it.”

  “Ah!” Relief sounded in the secretary’s voice. “That’s it, of course. I got hung up on one ‘island’ in the middle of Piccadilly, and when half the people surged forward into the road there was a bit of a scrum, and I dropped the case. I suppose that did it.”

  “You dropped it?” Winthrop asked. “Rather careless, surely!”

  Fortescue flushed.

  “Yes, Sir Charles. But it fell at my feet, and I’d picked it up in a flash.”

  “I see.”

  Breathlessly Linckes watched the secretary burst open the lock.

  “Mr. Caryu told me to ask you to run through his memorandum concerning the Crosstown Barracks, sir. Here it is!”

  He was turning over some long envelopes. One of these he handed to Winthrop, who took it and pulled out several folded sheets. There was a moment’s silence, broken only by the crackle of paper as Winthrop spread open the papers. Then Linckes saw Sir Charles look up sharply at Fortescue,