Aidan de Brune

The Green Pearl

Warsaw 2018

Contents

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VII

CHAPTER VIII

CHAPTER IX

CHAPTER X

CHAPTER XI

CHAPTER XII

CHAPTER XIII

CHAPTER XIV

CHAPTER XV

CHAPTER XVI

CHAPTER XVII

CHAPTER XVIII

CHAPTER XIX

CHAPTER XX

CHAPTER XXI

CHAPTER XXII

CHAPTER XXIII

CHAPTER XXIV

CHAPTER XXV

CHAPTER XXVI

CHAPTER XXVII

CHAPTER I

“MR. ROHMER, I am certain that a woman entered my room last night.”

Carl Rohmer sat back in his chair and smiled.

During the twenty years he had managed the Hotel Splendide he had listened to stories and theories sufficient to fill a library. Few of the confidences received by him ever became public. It was his uncanny ability to stifle gossip and scandal that had won for him his position in Sydney’s largest and most luxurious hotel.

“And, the lady, M’sieu. What did she do?” Rohmer carelessly picked up an ivory, paper-knife from the desk, tapping with the blade, softly and irregularly, on the polished wood.

“You think I had a pipe-dream?” the man on the opposite side of the desk, laughed lightly. “Let me tell you, Mr. Rohmer–”

“Tut, tut!” Rohmer’s white hand waved away the suggestion. “I asked the question, Mr. Therrold, in the way of business. It is well to commence at the beginning of the story. M’sieu had supper and retired to his apartments, yes?”

Mark Therrold nodded; A tall; clean-shaven man of about 35 years of age, he seemed strangely perturbed, huddling down in the big lounge chair and running his fingers, continually, through his fast-greying hair.

“My supper, if you call it so, consisted of a few sandwiches and a whisky-soda at the bar,” he retorted. “Then I went up to my room. It was a hot night and after a shower I sat I smoking and reading for an hour. Then I turned in.”

“And the time?” The hotel manager nodded encouragingly.

“When I went to bed? About 12.30, I should say. I did not look at my watch.”

“M’sieu slept well, eh?”

“No. It was too hot to sleep. S’pose I dozed a bit. Anyway, it was some time after I turned in that I had an idea that there was someone in my room.”

“The person–a woman, M’sieu suggested–made, some noise?”

“Hardly a sound. I woke suddenly with the idea that there was someone in the room; but I could hear nothing.” Therrold shifted restlessly. “I simply felt there, was someone hear. Oh, I can’t explain. I had the feeling that there was a woman near.”

“A woman?”

“I saw her, later. I lay still, with my eyes half-opened, watching. Shifting restlessly, I managed to roll over so that I could watch the half-lights through the windows. After some considerable time, I saw a shadow lift before the light. I thought she was making for the bathroom, but she came to the side of the bed and bent over me.”

“M’sieu says that the lady bent over him as he lay in bed. What then did she do?”

“Nothing. She stood for a minute as if listening to my breathing. Probably wanted to see if I was; asleep. I lay quiet, hoping to find out what she was after, but she seemed to move quite aimlessly around the room. Once I caught a fair view of her. She appeared to be about 25 years of age, and fair. I noticed that her hair was closely cropped, just like a boy’s.”

“Yes?” The drumming of the paper-knife on the table became insistent. “You say the lady was young–and possibly of good looks and–M’sieu did not say what she wore–possibly evening dress?”

“I shouldn’t call it; that, Mr. Rohmer.” Therrold laughed. It was a pleasant laugh, and softened the lines of his face. “To my ignorance it appeared to be more like night attire–just a long coloured wrapper, caught up at the side by a button or a hook.”

“M’sieu has good eyesight. If I mistake not, he said that the only light came from the window–and the night, it was dark.”

Therrold flushed. “The girl bent over me; I saw her quite close. S’pose she wanted to make afire that I was asleep. When I moved, to try and get a clearer view of her, she disappeared.”

“M’sieu missed nothing from his room?”

“Not a thing. When I was certain that she had left the room I got up and searched. She had taken nothing.”

“M’sieu intrigues!” Rohmer hesitated. “Has M’sieu with him anything of value?”

For a few seconds Therrold did not reply. He stared intently at the little hotel-manager, then let his eyes wander around the beautifully appointed office. Rohmer’s room was more like a sitting-room than the nerve centre of a busy hotel. The large desk in the centre of the room, was of rare black oak, in keeping with the other furniture. Around the walls were black-oak bookcases, filled to overflowing. On the bookcases and tables stood rare specimens of china and statuary. The floor was of highly polished parquet blocks, over which were scattered valuable rugs and skins. A few pictures hung oh the walls, but each of them was signed by some noted Australian painter.

The hotel-manager watched his guest carefully. Except for the incessant tap-tap of the paper-knife, he as immobile. Once he glanced across at a tall Japanese screen in a corner–and then a little smile played on his lips.

At length Therrold appeared to have made up his mind to some action. Leaning forward, he pulled from his waistcoat pocket a small enamelled box. From it he took a roll of black velvet and, placing it on the blotting pad before Rohmer, flicked it open.

“A pearl!” The manager learned forward, with a quick whistling intake of his breath. “M’sieu, the Queen of Pearls!”

It seemed as if a ball of lambent fire slay on the small velvet square. The pearl was medium, in size and almost pure oval in shape, containing within its far depths a wonderful green fire, A lover of rare and beautiful jewels, Rohmer, bent worshipfully over it. His fingers twitched as if anxious to lift the beautiful thing and fondle it.

“The Romanoff Green Pearl.” Therrold spoke softly. With a pencil he gently rolled the jewel over. The movement seemed to set the iridescent green moving in long, surging waves of colour.

“So!” Rohmer could not take his byes from the jewel. “It is wonderful, Unique! There is not another like it in all the world. M’sieu, I have heard of–this, but I never hoped to see it. Behold–it is priceless–no money can buy it! But so, it is worthless, for who will pay for it–anything? It stands alone–the one green pearl known to men. Ah, you beautiful–beautiful thing!”

“Beautiful, yes.” Therrold spoke bitterly. “It should be beautiful; bathed in the blood of countless, men and women. Mr. Rohmer, can you realise the misery and sin this overlaid grain of sand has caused through its existence? Can you picture the thousands who have marched to misery and death–because in the depths of the ocean an oyster conceived the only known green pearl? You cannot–nor can I. Yet, if its history were known and published, the whole world would demand its destruction. Wherever it has rested it has caused misery, covetousness and–”

“And, you, m’sieu?” Rohmer lifted inquiring eyes at his guest.

“I?” Therrold shrugged. “Yes, Mr. Rohmer, you can number me among its victims. Five years ago I accepted a commission from the Grand Duke Paul, the heir to the Romanoff Crown, to venture into Russia and recover the Green Pearl. For nearly five years I have lived a life I shudder to remember. I have lived with men–no, beasts, devoid of all human instincts. Men drunk with the lusts of blood and rapine. For over a thousand days I have lived, not knowing if I was to see the morrow’s light. I staked my employer’s money–my own life–on the quest. Oh, I’ve succeeded–but at what cost?”

“Behold, you have accomplished!” Rohmer waved his hands over the jewel.

“I entered. Russia from–Europe–intending, when successful to retrace my steps. With almost incredible luck I got in touch with the men who had the jewel. When opportunity offered, I stole the pearl from them–the men who had stolen it from among the Russian Crown jewels. Unluckily, their suspicions against me were aroused. Failing to regain the jewel they denounced me to the rulers of Russia claiming that I had been the original thief–that I had stolen it from among the regalia. I was thrown into prison; my belongings and person were searched again and again–but I had hidden well. I was questioned–tortured. I escaped–and was recaptured; to be again questioned–again tortured. Again I escaped and for months lay hidden within a few miles of my former prison. Then a chance came for me to leave Russia, across the old German frontier.

“The opportunity appeared too easy–or perhaps I was over-suspicious. Yet I accepted the venture. On the frontier I was again arrested and searched; but the pearl was not on me. For a time I thought that they would put me across the frontier. In that case I would have lost, for the pearl was hidden in Russia. One night I was taken from prison and carried into the heart of the empire. Months of questioning and torture followed–and again I escaped. Now I had to retrace my steps to where I had hidden the pearl. It was still there.

“Then a friend warned me not to venture towards the European frontier. I turned east, lacking food; money, and, even clothing; almost dead from the privations and injuries I has sustained at the hands of men who preached a universal brotherhood. Day after day I plodded on, towards the rising sun. Man, if I told you one tithe of what I saw and suffered you would call me a liar.

“One day when I had almost given up hope of getting anywhere, I crossed the borders of the Chinese Empire. There wasn’t; much chance–for me; I had evaded the emissaries of the Russian Government, but now I faced the Chinese bandits. News of what I carried seemed to have flown before me. Again and again I was searched–but always managed to conceal the pearl. Even when I got into districts where European influence held sway I found, that. I had enemies, secret and unscrupulous. Then, suddenly, I had to face an added danger–and a strange passport.”

“In what, m’sieu?” Rohmer questioned, interestedly.

“I found that the Green Pearl was borne sort of sacred jewel of some long-forgotten Central Asian Empire. This meant, that while: I had not lost my enemies–and indeed they Seemed to multiply the closer I got to the coast–I had friends. It was through those friends I at last managed to get on hoard a boat–bound for Australia; That is all, ex-”

“Except that you have arrived here.”

Rohmer gazed curiously at the man who had, into a few short years, crowded the adventures of a lifetime. “Now, m’sieu; as to the woman–the woman of the night. M’sieu suspects–”

Therrold shrugged. “The Soviet commands strange agent, and have a nation’s wealth to forward their aims. Then,” he hesitated. “There are others.”

“The pearl, m’sieu.” Rohmer spoke firmly. “You should have deposited it in the safe of the hotel. It is my duty to warn m’sieu, that the proprietors cannot except any risk occasioned. If it were stolen–”

“A not uncommon incident in the life of the Green Pearl,” Therrold laughed. “No, Mr.–Rohmer. The pearl has its–home and would be hard to find; even if I did not stand in the way; Point of fact; it has been stolen from me three times since I left Russia. Then I stole it from the men who stole it from the Russian Government. They stole it from the Romanoffs, who probably stole it from some race they conquered. Possibly that race had to record a theft–Who can tell how far back its history goes–of theft and murder, for a jewel weighing only 18 grains. It’s safe with me–”

“What’s that?” Therrold was on his feet, automatic in hand. The air of weariness had fallen from his shoulders; Again he was the alert Secret Service Agent holding his life of less value than the safety of his charge.

Backing slowly, he came to the corner of the desk so that he commanded not only the screen, from behind which had come the noise that had startled him, but also the alarmed hotel-manager.

“You–behind that screen! Come out, quick! I’ve got you covered!”

“M’sieu!” Rohmer held out an explanatory hand.

“M’sieu, let me-”

“Be silent!” Therrold spoke impatiently. He turned to the screen again. “Come on out. I shall count three and then fire.” He waited a moment. “One–two–”

The screen was swept to one side and a tall, slender, pale-faced girl walked into the room. She held an open note-book in her hand. Falteringly, she came towards the desk, her terror-stricken eyes fixed on the automatic, levelled at her. Therrold’s hand dropped to his side. He stared at the girl in amazement.

CHAPTER II

CARL ROHMER ran round the desk and placed himself between: the girl and Therrold, waving, his arms wildly, and pouring out words in half the languages of Europe.

The Secret Service Agents stood back, watchful. He made no attempt to gather the meaning of the manager’s excited torrent of words. He knew that in time the man would exhaust his excitement, and a proper, explanation would then be forthcoming.

“M’sieu! M’sieu!” At length Rohmer dropped into English

“I, Carl Rohmer, am to blame, it is not the young lady–No, she is but an employee of the hotel–the establishment. It is the rule; and m’sieu must pardon that I make it obeyed, that she place herself behind the screen. I–I–myself–I am desolate–despairing. It is my fault, m’sieu. I blame myself that I did send for the girl that she might make for me a record of a story most marvellous.”

So that was the meaning of the tapping with the paper-knife. Therrold laughed in relief.

“You gave me quite a scare, Mr. Rohmer. I’m not yet used to civilisation again. S’pose I must offer my apologies to the young lady, for the shock I must have given here. Also to you, Mr.–”

The quick pause made Rohmer turn suddenly.

Therrold was staring at the desk. The manager’s eyes went to the blotting pad. On it still rested the square of black velvet–but the Green Pearl had disappeared.

“The pearl!” Rohmer gasped; “it had–!”

He made a step towards his chair to feel the Secret Service Agent’s automatic touching his chest.

“Quite so!” Therrold’s smile was chilly. “I am beginning to understand. Quite an interesting plot, yet I don’t quite fathom the reason for the lady of the night. Did she search for the pearl on her own account, Rohmer, or was she but a decoy to make me betray where she had hidden it? No, you needn’t answer, unless you really want to talk–that is at present.”

For a few moments the Secret Service Agent stood motionless; his automatic covering the manager and the girl.

Then he laughed, harshly. “Of course, the lady of the night was a decoy. She drove me to you, I was fool enough to let you know that I carried the pearl and–yes, you had your plans ready–that girl behind the screen to draw my attention at the psychological moment. I fell into the trap. Very pretty. Looks to me that I’ll have to accuse you of stealing the pearl, Rohmer. You were behind me for a few seconds, while I was engaged in persuading your confederate to come out into the open. Yes, yes! You alone had the opportunity to steal it! But, how do you mean to get away with it? The pearl’s in this room, I’ll swear to that! Bluff me? I don’t think so!”

Again Therrold paused, his keen eyes searching the room and its appurtenances. He lowered his gun and bowed mockingly.

“Rohmer, unless you hand me that pearl at once I shall accuse you of its theft. Oh, I know it’s not on you.” The agent laughed at the motion of denial from the manager. “I don’t have to search you to know that. I don’t think it’s in the desk, or on it; for you expect, the desk to be searched. The girl hasn’t got it; I’m certain of that, unless you two can act quicker than I believe. Is it in the room? You must have guessed that I’d search everywhere–to drop it into one of those delicate pieces of china would be absurd. Well, well, I’ll be absurd, just to please you.”

With lithe, swift steps the Secret Service Agent moved around the desk and seated himself in the manager’s chair, his automatic ready for instant use. For a moment he stared at the pair before him, the hotel manager a picture of distressed dismay, the girl pale, but more composed.

“We may save a lot of unpleasantness–” Therrold hesitated. “Pardon me, I am forgetful. Mr. Rohmer, may I trouble you to place a chair for the lady–before the desk. Miss–er–I haven’t the pleasure of knowing your name–will you please be seated. Thanks, Rohmer, you’ll find that chair comfortable. Yes, like that! Your hands well in sight, please. Thanks. Now–but it is understood, Mr. Rohmer, that neither you nor the lady attempt to communicate without my consent. Now I’ll place my gun on the desk–so. Please remember, I have the reputation of being an excellent snap-shot–and I shan’t be careless again, to-day.”

He drew the telephone towards him, keeping a keen watch en his prisoners. Calmly, he requested the switch operator to connect him with police headquarters. A few moments and he gained the connection and requested that a couple of detectives be sent to the hotel.

Replacing the receiver he looked up at Rohmer.

“Perhaps I might have asked the direct question, before calling in the police.” Therrold’s voice was almost careless. “I believe you realise that I command the situation. I can assure you that I possess credentials that will ensure me all the help that I require.” He paused, then added suddenly: “Rohmer, have you the Green Pearl?”

The hotel manager shook his head, slowly. His eyes were on the automatic on the desk, but a few inches from Therrold’s hand. He was strangely pale, his eyes glittering, dangerously.

“Quite so!” The Secret Service Agent laughed. “And you have no knowledge of where it is. No? Really you are very, stubborn. Mr. Rohmer. Now, Miss–er–well, names don’t matter. Have you the pearl?”

The girl shook her head. Therrold frowned. He picked up the paper knife and tapped with it, meditatively on the desk.

“Strange!” The adventurer spoke after some moments meditation. “I was just beginning to feel safe in this big caravanserai of yours–and hearing English spoken around me again. S’pose I relaxed a bit. That gave you the opportunity. Careless, very. Should have remembered that those devils of modern Russia manage to get quite decent people in their employ. No, there’s no need to talk, Rohmer, unless you want to tell me where the pearl is. Just keep your hands in your lap and–”

He paused, the paper knife still drumming on the desk. Suddenly, its tapping changed from the rhythmic drumming to an irregular, staccato beat.

Therrold’s eyes lifted, staring directly at his prisoners.

“Got that, Rohmer? No?” The man laughed slightly. “Well, it was a simple request, in rather poor Morse, for the return of the pearl. Really, that tapping was a brilliant idea. Didn’t use the Morse, or any code. Just the steady beating–and it caught me. I’d have read the Morse, if you had used that.”

A knock came at the door. Therrold left the desk and opened the door, peering out. Then he stood back, admitting a couple of men. An hotel attendant, who attempted to follow them, was thrust back and the door locked, and bolted.

“Mr. Rohmer, the manager of this hotel, and the young lady, name unknown, who he states to be his typist.” Therrold introduced his prisoners, in response to the bewildered looks of the detectives. “I’m staging something like a hold-up, y’know. May I ask who is in charge?”

“Detective Sergeant Saunders, from headquarters.” The elder man spoke brusquely.

“Who are you and what are you doing with that gun?” Sergeant Saunders repeated.

Therrold; he stepped close to the man. “I think this has a meaning for you, Sergeant.” He held up his closed hand. As the detective’s eyes came down to his closed fingers they opened. On his palm lay a queerly cut and marked disc of gold.

“I understand, sir.” The officer glanced sharply at Therrold. “This is plain-clothes constable Browne. May I ask your name?”

“Mark Therrold–” For a moment the Secret Service man’s eyes met the constable’s. “It happens that I am a guest at this hotel. A bare half hour ago I was seated in this room alone, as I supposed, with Mr. Rohmer. I was lodging a complaint that someone had entered my room during the night. He asked me if I carried anything of value. I showed him a very valuable pearl that I was carrying out to England. I had taken it from my pocket and placed it on a scrap of velvet, on the blotting pad before Mr. Rohmer. I heard a sound behind that screen. At my challenge this young lady walked into the room. After explanations with her and Mr. Rohmer I turned to the desk–to find that the pearl had disappeared.”

Sergeant Saunders looked puzzled. A largely-built man, of ordinary intelligence, he had gained his present rank in the service by hard plodding work. Crime was to him but the happenings of the day and to be solved on rigid, orthodox police lines. Happenings of uncommon nature perplexed and confused him.

“Mr. Rohmer is a responsible person, sir,” he suggested, after an interval. “I agree.” Therrold smiled. “I’m holding him entirely responsible. Only we three were in the room–and he, alone, was in a position to take the pearl, unobserved.”

“And the lady, sir?”

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