Flynn’s Weekly Detective Fiction. Vol. 27, No. 2, September 24, 1927

“His name will convey little to you. It’s Smith — William Smith. But, as a matter of fact, the fellowship, as such, doesn’t now exist. It has been... er... dissolved. Smith, actually, is the head of a little band of ordinarily clever criminals who carry out his instructions and find benefit to themselves in doing so. Now you know the man you’re up against, and what’s behind him, do you still wish to hear the rest?”

Kitty nodded. “Yes. I’m with you so far. I never mind a little excitement; and fifty thousand pounds is a lot of money, isn’t it?”

“Plus freedom,” said Bordington gravely.

“Yes — and other things.” He thought a shadow crossed her eyes, but, if it did, it was gone so quickly that he could not be certain of its presence.

He proceeded to his further explanation.

“To-morrow night I have to meet this man Smith in the sitting room of his private suite in the Hotel Magnificent. I can give you the number of the suite and the exact situation of the sitting room. I will confess something to you. That man holds a paper by means of which he can threaten me with ruin. In exchange for it, he demands another paper — which I am taking to him to-morrow night. When I hand him over the paper he wants, he will hand me the paper he holds. Is that clear?”

“Quite. Ordinary blackmail, eh?”

“Perhaps. At any rate, I shall bum, on the spot, the paper Smith hands me. You will be outside the room. When I leave the room you will know that I am safe, in so far as his threat against me is concerned.

“You will then get into his room — at once, before he has had time to study the paper I have given him — and steal it from him. The method of stealing I leave to you. You will probably need a weapon, and the best method would be to hold him up with a pistol. In the moment that you deliver into my hands the paper you obtain from Smith, you receive fifty thousand pounds and your freedom.”

She regarded him curiously. “Can’t you do it yourself? Can’t you take a pistol with you, get your precious paper, bum it, and then demand back that which you’ve given him?”

Bordington shook his head. He was quite frank in his reply. “No. To begin with, to make open confession, I’m afraid of him. Probably I’m influenced by my position; but he seems to me a man of infinite resource, and were I to pit myself against him I would feel as though I endeavored to cope with an unknown quantity.

“I should have no confidence in myself. Further, things might go wrong. You never know what will happen in a big hotel. I have a name, a reputation. Smith, if things went wrong, would tell the whole story. It would be difficult for me — even though the paper were burned — to deny complicity were I caught in his room threatening him with a pistol.

“It isn’t done by men in my position. But you are different. If things go wrong... well — you are what you are. There still will be fifty thousand pounds for you, by the way, if things go wrong like that, and you are caught; but I’m afraid you’ll have to serve a sentence, and you will have to keep your mouth shut as far as my participation in the affair is concerned.

“Does it appear a reasonable proposition to you? You see, if you rob Smith, he will never know that I am behind you. You must make him think you are an ordinary hotel burglar, and you must keep up that pose to the end — whatever happens.”

Kitty nodded. “It’s quite clear,” she said. “And I see your viewpoint.” She examined the tip of her cigarette. “You’re asking more than you know. This man is a very powerful force in the underworld — so powerful that until to-night I’ve never been able to learn his name. The people who work for him are afraid to breathe it. It’s that kind of thing which gives you an idea of his influence. I know of one man connected with him — a flash hotel crook named Trevelyan; but even from Trevelyan I’ve never learned anything, and neither has anybody else.”

Bordington stirred in his chair. “I’ve met Trevelyan,” he said bitterly.

Kitty laughed. “He’s the fellow who got you into the mess, eh?”

“Yes. But are you willing to accept this commission?”

He waited anxiously for her reply, realizing, as he did so, how she had impressed him, how true was that conception of her personality. He wanted her on his side — an ally — and even as he wanted her, his shifting thoughts, his basic weakness, was seeing another opportunity in this chance meeting.

She said: “I’ll do it. Tell me all the details — the time I meet you, where, and the rest.”

He told her everything.

He let her out by the window through which she had entered the house, and she vanished, wraithlike, into the darkness of the park. He went upstairs slowly. He knew he would not sleep all through the night, but he felt somewhat comforted by the strange alliance he had just formed.

He did not go to bed, but went to the study and sat down and wrote to his wife, who was in Paris with his daughter.