“It was his desire that Rudlow, Limited, should undertake the disposal of those options, at the price quoted. Selbrock, in turn, insisted that he would be satisfied to receive two hundred thousand pounds as his payment. This offered an excellent profit, fifty thousand pounds to be exact, for Rudlow, Limited.
“The directors conferred upon the matter and resolved to undertake the sale. An agreement was drawn up with Selbrock. The next process was to discover a suitable buyer.”
Craybaw paused. He formed another mental calculation; then resumed:
“Less than a fortnight since — twelve days ago, as I recall it— Lionel Selbrock was approached directly by a man who offered to dispose of his options. That man named a potential buyer: namely, the Rajah of Delapore.”
“He is here in London,” put in Lewsham, with a nod. “Prepared to sell a large number of valuable jewels. One of my men talked with his secretary, to make sure that the wealth was properly protected.”
“Exactly,” stated Craybaw. “The rajah’s purchase of the oil options was to be contingent upon his sale of the jewels, a point which has apparently been already arranged. But what is most important is the identity of the man who called upon Selbrock to arrange the transaction.”
“Was it Darryat?”
“It was. He tried to induce Selbrock to visit the Rajah of Delapore and come to immediate terms. Selbrock refused to do so.”
“On account of his agreement with Rudlow, Limited?”
“That was the reason. Selbrock came directly to us, as an honest man should have done. His suggestion was that we negotiate with the rajah.”
“Eliminating the so-called Captain Darryat?”
“Entirely. Selbrock reasoned that Darryat was entitled to no consideration, because he had attempted to produce an illegal transaction. A point, however, with which I could not agree.”
“So you did not contact the rajah?”
“On the contrary, we did.” Craybaw’s tone was serious. “Our position was a rather unique one. Since we had agreed to sell Selbrock’s options, we could hardly refuse to negotiate with a purchaser whom he suggested. Had Darryat come to us, we would naturally have been forced to consider him; but he had dealt only with Selbrock. Darryat’s interests, therefore, were entirely beyond our jurisdiction.”
“QUITE so,” put in Sir Ernest Jennup. “The course was decided upon by the board of directors at Rudlow, Limited. Against the advice of Mr. Craybaw.”
“Not precisely,” corrected Craybaw. “I advised that Darryat be consulted, since his name had been drawn into the transaction; for that appeared to me to be the clearer course. The board of directors voted that we first open negotiations with the rajah.”
“And you did so?” queried Lewsham.
“Yes,” replied Craybaw. “I interviewed the rajah in my office, along with Selbrock and the board of directors. He declared that he had not authorized Captain Darryat to act as his representative. He stated that he knew very little about the fellow. Since Selbrock held to the same opinion, we decided to undertake the complete transaction.
“As it now stands, we are awaiting the rajah’s disposal of his jewels. When he assures us that such negotiation has been completed, we shall purchase Selbrock’s options at the price of two hundred thousand pounds. We shall then dispose of them to the Rajah of Delapore for two hundred and fifty thousand.”
Lewsham had risen to his feet.
“Can this transaction be postponed?” he queried. “Without jeopardizing the interests of Rudlow, Limited?”
“My present belief,” replied Craybaw, “is that it should by all means be postponed, until Scotland Yard has had time to fully investigate the possible influence of Captain Darryat.”
“A decision with which I fully agree,” nodded Sir Ernest. “That is why we have come here so promptly. Furthermore, as a principal stockholder in Rudlow; Limited, I believe that the entire transaction should be supervised by the authorities.”
“With reports upon Selbrock,” added Craybaw, “and also upon the Rajah of Delapore. For that matter, we shall also insist that you examine the status of Rudlow, Limited.”
Sidney Lewsham smiled.
“Very well;” he agreed. “We shall commence at once. I shall appoint you, Delka, to the task, with as many competent assistants as you may require.”
Handshakes were exchanged. Sir Ernest Jennup departed, accompanied by Justin Craybaw. As soon as the visitors were gone, Lewsham turned to Delka and The Shadow.
“THE fine hand of The Harvester has been at work,” declared the chief constable. “Here we have a perfectly legitimate transaction, needing only a move to bring seller and purchaser together. Somehow, The Harvester learned of it. He used Darryat to arrange a short-cut, eliminating the natural intermediary: Rudlow, Limited. Fortunately, the game was stopped.”
“It was ‘spiked,’ as they say in the States,” chuckled Delka. “That is why Darryat was sent on a lesser game. Maybe The Harvester has given up hope of getting his fists into either the oil options or the jewels.”
“Not The Harvester,” returned Lewsham, with a shake of his head. “He is somewhere in the offing. We have a new lead, also. The rogue must be keeping close watch upon developments in Lombard Street.”
“He has done so in the past.”
“Yes. Moreover, his impersonation of Sir Ernest shows that he has had contacts among bankers. I wonder” — Lewsham paused musingly — “I wonder if either Selbrock or the rajah ever met Sir Ernest.”
“I shall make inquiry of both, when I meet them,” stated Delka. “You can ask Sir Ernest, chief. Unless you prefer that I—”
“I shall ask him. Meanwhile, Delka, when you call on Selbrock and the Rajah of Delapore, I would suggest that you have Mr. Cranston accompany you. He can listen and ascertain if their description of the pretended Captain Darryat tallies with your own.”
Ten minutes later, Eric Delka left New Scotland Yard accompanied by The Shadow. As the two walked toward an underground station, Delka was delivering brief comments regarding their coming quest. The Shadow, however, was silent.
His thin lips, perfectly disguised, wore a slight, fixed smile that sometimes went with the personality of Lamont Cranston. For where Delka simply hoped for news of The Harvester, The Shadow was already positive that he would have a complete trail, before this work was finished.
CHAPTER VII. THE SHADOW DECIDES
FROM Westminster to Aldgate was a ride of a dozen minutes by the Metropolitan and District Lines, the route which Delka and The Shadow took. This was the circle service of the underground; their train traveled on the “inner rail” to make its rapid journey. When they came up the steps at Aldgate, Delka pointed to a distant sign which bore the name: “Addingham Hotel.”
“That is where Lionel Selbrock is stopping,” informed the Scotland Yard man. “Justin Craybaw left the address with the chief. Come; we shall see if Selbrock is at his diggings.”
Aldgate marked the abrupt limit of the old city; with it, the beginning of the East End, where the most squalid quarters of London are located. Almost on the fringe of a dilapidated district, the Addingham Hotel occupied an unenviable site.
It was a hostelry that advertised bed, breakfast and bath for eight shillings the night, reasonable rates which were determined more by location than by furnishings. For the lobby of the Addingham, though old, proved quite pretentious when Delka and The Shadow viewed it.
At the desk, Delka inquired for Lionel Selbrock and was referred to Room 402. Ascending in the lift, the visitors walked along a well-kept hall until they reached the proper door. There Delka knocked.