Bones in London
Edgar Wallace
Wallace Edgar
Bones in London
CHAPTER I
BONES AND BIG BUSINESS
There was a slump in the shipping market, and men who were otherwise decent citizens wailed for one hour of glorious war, when Kenyon Line Deferred had stood at 88 1/2, and even so poor an organization as Siddons Steam Packets Line had been marketable at 3 3/8.
Two bareheaded men came down the busy street, their hands thrust intotheir trousers pockets, their sleek, well-oiled heads bent in dejection.
No word they spoke, keeping step with the stern precision of soldiers.Together they wheeled through the open doors of the Commercial TrustBuilding, together they left-turned into the elevator, andsimultaneously raised their heads to examine its roof, as though in itspanelled ceiling was concealed some Delphic oracle who would answer theriddle which circumstances had set them.
They dropped their heads together and stood with sad eyes, regardingthe attendant's leisurely unlatching of the gate. They slipped forthand walked in single file to a suite of offices inscribed "PoleBrothers, Brokers," and, beneath, "The United Merchant Shippers'Corporation," and passed through a door which, in addition to thisdeclaration, bore the footnote "Private."
Here the file divided, one going to one side of a vast pedestal deskand one to the other. Still with their hands pushed deep into theirpockets, they sank, almost as at a word of command, each into hiscushioned chair, and stared at one another across the table.
They were stout young men of the middle thirties, clean-shaven andruddy. They had served their country in the late War, and had mademany sacrifices to the common cause. One had worn uniform and one hadnot. Joe had occupied some mysterious office which permitted and, indeed, enjoined upon him the wearing of the insignia of captain, buthad forbidden him to leave his native land. The other had earned alittle decoration with a very big title as a buyer of boots for Alliednations. Both had subscribed largely to War Stock, and a reminder oftheir devotion to the cause of liberty was placed to their credit everyhalf-year.
But for these, war, with its horrific incidents, its late hours, itsmidnight railway journeys by trains on which sleeping berths could notbe had for love or money, its food cards and statements of excessprofits, was past. The present held its tragedy so poignant as toovershadow that breathless terrifying moment when peace had come andfound the firm with the sale of the Fairy Line of cargo steamersuncompleted, contracts unsigned, and shipping stock which had livedlight-headedly in the airy spaces, falling deflated on the floor of thehouse.
The Fairy Line was not a large line. It was, in truth, a small line.It might have been purchased for two hundred thousand pounds, andnearly was. To-day it might be acquired for one hundred and fiftythousand pounds, and yet it wasn't.
"Joe," said the senior Mr. Pole, in a voice that came from hisvarnished boots, "we've got to do something with Fairies."
"Curse this War!" said Joe in cold-blooded even tones. "Curse theKaiser! A weak-kneed devil who might at least have stuck to it foranother month! Curse him for making America build ships, curse himfor – "
"Joe," said the stout young man on the other side of the table, shakinghis head sadly, "it is no use cursing, Joe. We knew that they werebuilding ships, but the business looked good to me. If Turkey hadn'tturned up her toes and released all that shipping – "
"Curse Turkey!" said the other, with great calmness. "Curse the Sultanand Enver and Taalat, curse Bulgaria and Ferdinand – "
"Put in one for the Bolsheviks, Joe," said his brother urgently, "and Ireckon that gets the lot in trouble. Don't start on Austria, or we'llfind ourselves cursing the Jugo-Slavs."
He sighed deeply, pursed his lips, and looked at his writing-padintently.
Joe and Fred Pole had many faults, which they freely admitted, such astheir generosity, their reckless kindness of heart, their willingnessto do their worst enemies a good turn, and the like. They