Black Mask (Vol. 22, No. 2 — Mary 1939)

“It’s been hard making love to her. It has been hard convincing her that her interests are mine, and that you, Major, are doing a great good. I must turn her pretty head with talks of romance, of my imaginary estates abroad.”

“And this Clay Holt? You listened to her telephone call to him. These American women, my boy — at any minute they renounce their convictions, betray the trust of their husbands.”

“I know,” Davis agreed emphatically. “But Muriel suspects nothing of the plane crashes. Understand, Major, I am not trying to get rid of her before you wish. But something is on her mind. She believes that we are to hold Clay Holt a prisoner here. She made me swear that I would not harm him.”

The Major smiled. “You won’t harm Clay Holt, my boy. I will take care of him. Muriel Van Eden is tied up in the cellar under a dim light. The two men are in the dark. Clay will see her from the window, drop in — and that is all. Close the steel shutters by the windows, Davis. No sound must go outside this room. And, Davis, after tonight you may take your delayed honeymoon. Your wife is young and healthy. I might suggest the Italian Alps. Even the young and the strong could not survive a thousand-foot drop.”

Davis pulled over the shutters, turned and looked at the Major. “No sound outside, eh? I was right about Lady Una Duncan. I got a lot of information from my wife, things she didn’t realize. This Una asked her enough questions. Yet, I could not believe Una would betray you because of her fear of retribution.”

The Major shook his head. “An international spy of such standing as Lady Una Duncan has no fear of retribution.”

“But her record has been never to betray those who first hired her. Was that you?”

“No, not me. She is not betraying her trust, Davis. She is the most clever of all espionage workers in the world. It was natural that I seek her, but I see now how she arranged for me to seek her out. No, she did not betray her trust. Carlton Wilburt hired her first.”

“And—”

The Major said simply: “She is very clever. I bear her no malice. She will be here in a minute, Davis.” He lowered his voice. “You will stand with your back to the curtains before the door after she comes in.”

“What do you intend to do?”

“Nothing terrible, my dear boy. She has no information that I wish.” He opened the table drawer, took out a long-barreled revolver and laid it on the table. “She might have information that others would want. She started in business at the age of seventeen. Ten years is a long time to live as a free-lance. I think she will understand. I want you by the door, though I do not think she will run screaming from the room. I am going to shoot her to death.”

“And Clay Holt?”

“One body or two, what difference does it make?”

“And me?”

“You will wait until it is over. Your passport, vise, steamship tickets are all ready for you. After you have finished with your honeymoon, go to Paris. You have a way with women, Davis. You will meet Francine Le Seur. Money is no object. She must come to me.”

“And you?”

“My work is not finished, but Van Eden and Wilburt’s work is finished. There will be no more money for them, and this great democracy which I love so dearly must put up with me. In my own country—” He paused, listened, and when the gentle knock was repeated, called softly, “Come in.”

The door opened silently. The curtains parted. Lady Una stood there a moment, then came into the room. Her eyes raised slightly as she saw Davis walk to the door, turn and stand there almost beside her. Her eyes turned to the Major, lowered and fastened upon the table, the long-nosed revolver that lay there. She took three quick steps backward, her shoulders pressed against the wall.

Arnold Davis’ mouth hung open as he stood before those curtains. To his right was the Major, the gun steady in his hand. To his left the woman, charming, beautiful, poised, even now, but for the fact that her left hand stretched back flat against the wall. Davis could have taken a step and been between them, but he didn’t move.

The Major said, “It had to come, Una. You knew it had to come. In any other country but this they would take me and hang me.” Then, his voice growing hard: “Don’t move! Don’t speak. I am under ordinary conditions a fair shot.”

His gun jerked up. The woman tightened her back against the wall. The fingers of her right hand clawed convulsively against the wall paper. There was the single roar of the gun. The splash of flame and a sudden cry from the Major. Arnold Davis had crashed suddenly forward, directly in the path of the Major’s bullet! Plainly the Major saw the tiny blue mark in the side of Davis’ face, saw it widening and growing red before Davis sank slowly to the floor.

For the first time in his life the Major knew panic. For the first time in his life the muscles of his arms and hands did not respond to the orders of his brain. He cried out and saved his life. For the next moment six feet of muscle sprang from behind those curtains.