The Joker by Edgar Wallace (books to read in your 20s .TXT) đ
- Author: Edgar Wallace
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The old man shook his head.
âDead!â he nodded with every repetition of the word, âdead, dead, dead!
My axe⊠it was outside the kitchen door⊠I saw her lying there and
there was blood⊠â
âListen, Carlton,â it was Elkâs harsh voice. âIâm not believing this!
This birdâs madââ
âMad! Am I mad!â Ellenbury struck his thin chest. âSheâs upstairsâI saw
him carry her upâand the woman with the yellow face, and the man with a
beard⊠they made me come with them⊠left me here in the dark for a long
time and then made me come with themâlook!â
He dragged Elk into the little prison house. There was a bed and a
wardrobe; carpet covered the floor. It was a self-contained little suite,
in the depth of the cellar.
Fumbling on the wall he found a light switch and the room was flooded
with a rose-coloured glow that came from concealed lights in the angle of
a stone cornice.
âLookâlook!â
The lawyer dragged open the door of the wardrobe. At the bottom was a
heap of clothesâmenâs clothes. A crumpled dress shirt, a velvet
dress-jacketâ
âSir Josephâs clothes!â gasped Elk.
âTHEY KEPT him here,â whispered Ellenbury. He seemed afraid of the sound
of his own voice.
Jim saw another steel door at the farther end of the room; it had no
boltâonly a tiny keyhole. And then his attention was diverted.
âLook!â called Ellenbury.
Exercising all his strength, the little man pulled at the wardrobe and it
swung out like a gate on a hinge. Behind was an oblong door. âThere⊠I
came that way. The elevator⊠â
As Elk listened, he heard the distant whine of the elevator in motion.
âTo what room did he take her?â asked Jim huskily. âWe searched
everywhere.â
âMrs Edwinsâ. There is a cupboard, but the back is a false one. There is
a small room behind⊠why didnât they put her in the pit and hide her? It
would have been better⊠â
âWeâve got to get out of here, and quick,â said Elk, and looked round for
the means of escape. âPenultimate joke hasnât raised a laugh yetâlooks
like the penultimate jokeâs goinâ to put my relations in mourninâ!â
He tried to climb one of the greasy hydraulic cylinders, but although,
with the assistance of Jim, he managed to touch the platform, he could
derive little comfort from his achievement. The platform was of steel and
concrete.
Neither knew anything of the mechanism of an hydraulic lift, and indeed
the controls were out of reach under a locked steel grating.
The door behind the wardrobe was the only possible means of egress. Elk
searched the car, and the tool chest beneath.
âWeâre safe for a bitâheâd be scared of using any kind of gas for fear
there was a blow-up and he hasnât the means of manufacturing something
quick and sudden. Carlton, did you notice anything in the house!â
âI noticed many things. To which do you refer?â
âNotice that we never saw Mrs Edwins or Edwards, or whatever her name
was, after the old man said âgetâ!â
That fact had not occurred to Jim; though they had searched the house
from roof to basement, he had not seen the hard-faced woman again.
âWhere she is,â said Elk, âthe other feller can beâwhatâs âis
nameâMarling? And I know pretty well where that wasâin the little
elevator!â
It was true! Jim had seen the elevator when Harlow waited upon the top
floor, but after that it had disappeared. It was the easiest thing in the
world to slip from floor to floor, missing the search party.
The door was immovable; he could secure no leverage, and even if he had,
it was unlikely that it would yield. They must attack the
concrete-covered brickwork. This was the only section of the wall that
was not built of stone.
Fortunately for them, there were tool chests in all the cars, and
moreover in one of the machines was a big car jack, the steel lever of
which they disconnected and used as a crowbar.
The work was an anodyne to Jim Carltonâs jangled nerves, set further on
edge every time he saw the white face of Ellenbury.
The lawyer crouched by the bed watching them and muttering all the time
under his breath. Once, in a pause, Jim heard him say: âYou canât measure
principles with a yard stick; such a beautiful girl! And very young!â And
then he started weeping softly.
âDonât notice him,â snarled Elk; âget on with the work!â
To move only an inch of concrete was an arduous and difficult business,
and not without its danger if the sound were heard by the master of the
house. But after an hourâs work they cleared a square foot of the hard
plaster and revealed the brick lining beneath. Using screwdrivers for
chisels, they managed to dislodge the first brick in the course and
enlarge the hole. The second brick course was easier; but now the
necessity for caution was brought home to them dramatically.
Jim was fitting the jagged edge of his driver into a small hole in the
mortar, when a muffled voice almost at his elbow said: âLeave them alone:
they can wait until tomorrow.â
It was Harlow, and Jim almost jumped.
But the phenomenon had a simple explanation. His voice had been carried
down the shaft of the lift. They heard a gate slam, again came the whine
of the motor and the lift stopped just above them, the gate was fastened
again, and by a trick of acoustics Jim could hear the manâs foot tapping
on the tiled floor of the vestibule.
They had till the morning; that was a comfort. Working and listening at
intervals, they dislodged the inner brick, drew it out, a second
followed, and in half an hour there was a jagged hole through which a
lean man might wriggle.
Jim was that lean man. He found himself in the greasy pit of the elevator
shaft, stumbling over beams and pulleys in a darkness which was
unrelieved by a single ray from above.
He reached back into the room for his torch and made an inspection. The
bottom of the lift was at least twelve feet above where he stood and
hanging from it were two thick electric cables. Reaching up, he could
just touch the lowest of the loops. He told Elk the position, and all the
car cushions that could be gathered were thrust through the hole and
piled by Jim, one on top of the other.
Balancing himself on these, he took a steady grip of the cable and rested
his weight. The wires held. Pulling himself up, hand over hand, he
managed to reach a thick steel bar which connected with the safety brake,
and began to push the elevator floor, hoping to find a trap door. But
evidently this little lift was too small for a mechanicâs trap, the floor
did not yield under his pressure, and he was debating whether he should
drop on to the cushions when he heard a quick step in the vestibule, a
heavy foot stepped into the lift and the door slammed to. In another
second he was mounting rapidly. On the top floor the lift stopped with a
jerk which almost loosened his hold, though he had braced his feet upon
the dangling cables below.
The upper floors were not as deep as the two lower. As he hung, his knee
was on a level with the top of the elevator entrance to the second floor.
There was a footledge there, and if he could reach it, it would be a
simple matter to climb over the tiny grille. It was worth trying. Gently
he slid down the cable until, swinging his feet, he could just touch the
six inches of floor space between the pit and the grille.
Then, concentrating all his strength, he leapt forward, snatching at the
breast-high gateâhis feet slipping from under him. He recovered in a
second, and was over the top.
He crept noiselessly up the stairs and was almost detected by the tall
woman who was standing on the landing, her ear to the closed door of the
room in which, he suspected, Aileen was a prisoner. From where he stood,
concealed by a turn of the stairs, he could hear Harlowâs voice raised in
complaint.
âIt was so vulgarly theatrical! Iâm not annoyed, Iâm hurt! To write
messages on a card was stupid⊠and with a pin. If I had known⊠â
There was an agitated, murmured reply, and then unexpectedly Harlow
laughed.
âWell, well, youâre a foolish fellow; that is all I have to say to you.
And you must never do such a thing again. Luckily the police couldnât
read your writing.â
Jim had almost forgotten the existence of the bearded man. He heard the
door open and went quickly down the stairs until he was in the vestibule.
The hands of the little silver clock over the marble mantelpiece pointed
to five.
The lift was coming down again, and crouching back into a recess, Jim saw
the big man pass into the library. The door shut behind him. In a second
the detective was in the elevator and had pressed the top button.
If Aileen were there, he would find her; he dare not allow himself even
to debate the sanity of the little man he had left in the garage.
Was she here?⊠dead? He closed his eyes to shut out the dreadful picture
that the lawyer had drawn⊠the axe⊠the pitâŠ
Just as the elevator reached the top floor something happened. For a few
seconds Carlton did not grasp the explanation.
The two lights in the roof of the lift went out, and down below something
flashed bluelyâJim saw the lightning flicker of it.
He pushed at the grille which, on the top floor alone, reached from
ceiling to floor. It did not budge. He kicked at the gates, but they were
of hammered steel.
Trapped for a second time in three hours, Jim swore softly through his
teeth. He heard the street door close below and silence.
âElk!â From a distance came Elkâs hollow answer. âHe has cut out a
fuseâcan you climb to the hall?â
âIâll try.â
Facing where he stood, caged and impotent, was the door of Mrs Edwinsâ
room and as he looked he saw the handle turning slowly⊠slowly.
Mrs Edwins? She had been left behind then⊠The door opened a little⊠a
little more, and then Aileen Rivers walked out.
âAileen!â he cried hoarsely.
She looked at him, gripping the gate, his haggard face against the bars.
âThe philandering constable,â she said, bravely flippant; and then,
âpleaseâtake me home!â
âWho brought you here?â he asked, hardly believing the evidence of his
senses.
âI came of my own free willâoh, Jim heâs such a darling!â
âOh, God!â groaned the man in the cage, âand I never noticed it!â
NEARLY TWELVE hours before that poignant moment a gum-chewing chauffeur
had found himself in an awkward position.
âA lunatic and a fainting female!â mused the chauffeur. âThis is most
embarrassing!â
Stooping, he lifted the girl and laid her limply over his shoulder. With
his disengaged hand he dragged the dazed old lawyer to his feet.
âYou hit me!â whimpered Ellenbury.
âYou are alive,â said the chauffeur loftily, âwhich is proof that I did
not hit you.â
âYou choked
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