“You have brought valuables with you?”
“Yes. Currency. A quarter of a million, in this bag. As purchase money for the gems owned by the Rajah of Delapore.”
Justin Craybaw had come from his office. He had heard the final remarks. His eyes gazed sharply toward Canonby’s satchel.
“Money for the gems?” queried Craybaw. “But where is the Rajah of Delapore?”
“He will be here shortly,” replied Canonby. “He called me from his hotel.”
A boy was knocking at the door of the conference room to announce that the Rajah of Delapore had arrived.
Dressed in Hindu attire, the rajah made his appearance, followed by his two servants. He bowed in greeting; then beckoned to Barkhir, who produced a small package.
“The jewels,” explained the rajah. “You have seen them before, Mr. Canonby.”
“Of course,” returned Canonby, his tone nervous.
“But you must see them again,” assured the rajah. He opened the package and showed a square teakwood box. “They are here for your inspection.”
Canonby opened the box and began to count over the gems, mumbling as he did so. The others looked on, wondering somewhat about the jeweler’s haste. None, however, recognized that the jewels might be imitations, with the possible exception of Justin Craybaw.
The managing director was eyeing the jewels keenly and Harry noted it. Canonby completed his inspection, dumped jewels back into the box and closed the lid. He lifted the satchel and handed it to the rajah.
“Not heavy,” remarked Canonby, with a wan smile, “but that is because I acquired notes of high denomination. A quarter of a million, your excellency. Shall I count the money in your presence?”
“Mr. Craybaw can do that,” returned the rajah, indifferently. “The money will soon belong to Rudlow, Limited.”
Canonby turned to Lewsham.
“My men will guard my return journey,” said the jeweler. “If your officers will accompany me to the street, I shall not be in danger.”
Lewsham gave an order to two Scotland Yard men. They went out with Dawson Canonby.
CRAYBAW and Blessingwood were counting the money while Sir Ernest watched them. The bundles of crisp notes totaled two hundred and fifty thousand pounds. The count finished, Craybaw turned to the Rajah of Delapore.
“Your excellency,” he stated, “when I called you this morning, I supposed that we would have heard from Lionel Selbrock before noon. Unfortunately, we have not. Therefore, we must hold the transaction until we know where he is.”
“The delay will not matter,” returned the rajah.
“It might so far as this money is concerned,” objected Craybaw, seriously, “unless you wish me to place the funds in the vault. Rudlow, Limited, is willing to assume responsibility. We can give you full receipt for two hundred and fifty thousand pounds.”
“That will be satisfactory.”
Craybaw went into his office and produced a receipt form. He sent it to be typed; it came back a few minutes later. Craybaw passed it to Blessingwood.
“You may sign it,” he said.
“But I am not the managing director,” exclaimed Blessingwood. “That is your office, Craybaw.”
“This blank bears the name ‘comptroller,’” stated Craybaw. “I meant to bring one of my own; but I picked out this disused form instead. You are the comptroller, Blessingwood. You have sufficient authority to sign. Others will witness the receipt.”
Blessingwood nodded and picked up a pen. He sat down at the table and signed the receipt. Sir Ernest Jennup was nodding, apparently decided that the procedure was in order. He took the pen to affix his signature as a witness.
Craybaw remarked that he would place the money in the vault. In casual fashion, he picked up the satchel and walked from the conference room into his office. He let the door swing shut behind him.
Other witnessing signatures were needed, so Lewsham ordered Delka to add his name below Sir Ernest’s. Lewsham, himself, signed third.
While the ink was drying, Craybaw returned from his office. He began to chat with the rajah; then suddenly returned through the door to the other room. He came back, carrying the pigskin bag that he had purchased. He was holding it between both hands, in front of him, to give the bag better display.
“Look at this sample of British workmanship,” remarked Craybaw, proudly. “Have you ever seen its equal, your excellency? This is the finest pigskin you—”
The rajah stepped back, withdrawing his hand before he touched the bag. His action was as quick as if he had encountered a flame. Barkhir and Sanghar dropped back toward a corner. Craybaw stood still.
“We are Mohammedans,” explained the rajah, politely, “myself and my servants. To us, the pig is unclean. I admire the bag, Mr. Craybaw, but I cannot touch it.”
“My apologies—”
“They are unnecessary. You did not know the circumstances.”
Craybaw placed the offending bag on a table in the corner of the conference room. The rajah picked up the receipt from Rudlow, Limited, and folded it. Craybaw sat down in a corner by the table. Lewsham opened conversation with the rajah.
“There was a report at the office,” said Lewsham, “concerning an attempted robbery at your apartment. I understand that nothing was taken, however.”
“We thwarted the intruder,” declared the rajah, with a smile. “Unfortunately, he escaped us. He was probably seeking my jewels. He did not find them.”
“You have no clue to his identity?”
“None whatever.”
HARRY was facing Craybaw while the others talked. He saw the managing director open the door and carry out the pigskin bag. He placed it in the custody of an office boy. Delka glanced toward the door and noticed Craybaw returning. Meeting Delka’s gaze, Craybaw half closed his eyes.
“I feel the chill returning,” he said to Delka. “I feel that the strain is becoming too much for me. I should not have come in town at all. I dread the train trip back to Tunbridge Wells.”
Sir Ernest overheard the remark.
“I shall carry you there in my car,” he declared. “The motor trip may improve you. The day has turned mild; and we can make a rapid journey in the phaeton.”
Craybaw nodded his thanks. He steadied himself, for the rajah was preparing to leave.
“I shall return,” declared his excellency, “as soon as I have heard from you, Mr. Craybaw.”
“That will not be necessary,” stated Craybaw. “When Selbrock arrives, we shall have him sign the documents at once. We shall bring the options to your apartment.”
“Very well.”
The rajah left with his servants. Craybaw walked slowly back into his office, then slumped into the chair behind the desk. He had left the door open; the others saw his action. Sir Ernest entered the inner office.
“You are ill, Craybaw,” insisted Sir Ernest. Delka and Lewsham had joined him. “Come. You must return to your home.”
“But if Selbrock comes!” gasped Craybaw. “His options must be attested—”
“I can take charge of that,” inserted Blessingwood, who had also entered. “As comptroller, the duty comes within my province.”
Craybaw nodded. Reaching for Delka’s shoulder, he drew himself up from the desk. Sir Ernest added support. Craybaw steadied and walked slowly through the conference room. Delka stopped to speak to Harry.
“I must go with Mr. Craybaw,” said the C.I.D. man. “I shall call you at the Addingham, when we hear from Mr. Cranston.”
There was only one alternative. Harry took it. He left the office and preceded the others to the street. But when he had crossed Threadneedle, he waited and watched. He saw Craybaw come out with Delka and Sir Ernest.