The man who bought london

TheManwhoBoughtLondon

EdgarWallace


CHAPTER1
NighthadcometotheWestEnd,butthoughthehourwaslate,thoughall
Suburbiamightatthismomentbewrappedingloom—averitabledesertof
deadnessrelievedonlybythebrightnessandanimationofthebusy
public-houses—theStrandwasthrongedwithalanguidcrowdallagapefor
theshadymysteriesofthenightworld,whichwritersdescribeso
convincingly,buttheevidenceofwhichissooftendisappointing.

DesertedSuburbiahadsentitsquotatostareattheevilnight-lifeof
theMetropolis.Thatitwasevilnonedoubted.Thesepallidshopgirls
clingingtothearmsoftheirprotectingswains,thesesedate,married
ladies,arminarmwiththeirhusbands,thesegayyoungbloodsfroma
thousandhomesbeyondtheradius—theyallknewthesignificanceofthose
twowords:“WestEnd.”

Theystoodforanextravagantaristocracy—youcouldseetheshimmerand
sheenofthemastheybowlednoiselesslyalongtheStrandfromtheatreto
suppertable,intheirbrilliantlyilluminatedcars,alllacquerand
silverwork.Theystoodforallthedazzleoflight,forallthejoyous
rippleoflaughter,forthefaintstrainsofmusicwhichcamefromthe


restaurants.

Suburbiasaw,disapproved,butwasintenselyinterested.Forherewas

hourlyproofofunthinkablesumsthattothestrollingpedestrianswere
onlyreminiscentoftheimpossibleexercisesinarithmeticwhichtheyhad
beensetintheirearlieryouth.Itallreekedofmoney—theStrand—Pall
Mall(allponderousandpompousclubs),butmostofall,Piccadilly
Circus,agreatglitteringdiamondoflightsetinthegoldenheartof
London.

Money—money—money!ThecontentsbillsreflectedthespiritoftheWest.
“Well-knownactressloses20,000poundsworthofjewellery,”saidone;
“Fivemillionshippingdeal,”saidanother,butthatwhichattractedmost
attentionwasthenamingbillwhichTheMonitorhadissued—

KINGKERRYTOBUYLONDON

(Special)

Itdrewreluctantcoppersfrompocketswhichseldomknewanyother
varietyofcoinagethancopper.Itbroughtrapidly-walkingmen,hardened


tothebeguilementofthecontents-billauthor,toasuddenstandstill.

Itevenluredtherichtosatisfytheircuriosity.“KingKerryisgoing
tobuyLondon,”saidoneman.

“Iwishhe’dbuythisrestaurantandburnit,”grumbledtheother,
rappingonthetablewiththehandleofafork.“Waiter,howlongareyou
goingtokeepmebeforeyoutakemyorder?”

“Inamoment,sir.”

Atall,good-lookingmansittingatthenexttable,andoccupyingatthe
momentthewaiter’sfullattention,smiledasheheardtheconversation.
Hisgreyhairmadehimlookmucholderthanhewas,afactwhichafforded
himverylittledistress,forhehadpassedthestagewhenhispersonal
appearanceexcitedmuchinterestinhisownmind.Thereweremanyeyes
turnedtowardhim,as,havingpaidhisbill,herosefromhischair.

Heseemedunawareoftheattentionhedrewtohimself,or,ifaware,to
beuncaring,andwithathincigarbetweenhisevenwhiteteethhemade
hiswaythroughthecrowdedroomtothevestibuleoftherestaurant.



“ByJove,”saidthemanwhohadcomplainedaboutthewaiter’s
inattention,“theregoesthechaphimself!”andhetwistedroundinhis
chairtoviewthedepartingfigure.

“Who?”askedhisfriend,layingdownthepaperhehadbeenreading.

“KingKerry,”saidtheother,“theAmericanmillionaire.”

KingKerrystrolledoutthroughtherevolvingdoorsandwasswallowedup
withthecrowd.

FollowingKingKerry,atadistance,wasanotherwell-dressedman,
youngerthanthemillionaire,withahandsomefaceandasubtleairof
refinement.

Hescowledatthefigureaheadasthoughheborehimnogoodwill,but

madenoattempttoovertakeorpassthemaninfront,seemingcontentto
keephisdistance.KingKerrycrossedtotheHaymarketandwalkeddown
thatslopingthoroughfaretoCockspurStreet.



Themanwhofollowedwasslimmerofbuild,yetwellmade.Hewalkedwith
acuriousrestrictedmotionthatwasalmostmincing.Helackedtheswing
ofshoulderwhichoneusuallyassociatedwiththewell-builtman,and
therewasacertainstiffnessinhiswalkwhichsuggestedamilitary
training.Reflectedbythelightofalampunderwhichhestoppedwhen
thefigureinfrontsloweddown,thefacewasaperfectone,small
featuredanddelicate.

HermanZeberlieffhadmanyofthecharacteristicsofhisPolish-Hungarian
ancestryandifhehadcombinedwiththesethehauteurofhis
aristocraticforbears,itwasnotunnatural,rememberingthatthe
Zeberlieffshadplayednosmallpartinthemakingofhistory.

KingKerrywastakingamildconstitutionalbeforereturningtohis
Chelseahousetosleep.Hisshadowerguessedthis,andwhenKingKerry
turnedontotheThamesEmbankment,theotherkeptontheoppositeside
ofthebroadavenue,forhehadnowishtomeethisquarryfacetoface.

TheEmbankmentwasdesertedsaveforthefewpoorsoulswhogravitated
hitherinthehopeofmeetingacharitablemiracle.



KingKerrystoppednowandagaintospeaktooneoranotherofthewrecks

whoambledalongthebroadpavement,andhishandwentfrompocketto
outstretchedpalmnotoncebutmanytimes.

Thereweresomewho,slinkingtowardshimwithopenpalms,whinedtheir
needs,buthewastooexperiencedamannottobeabletodistinguish
betweenmisfortuneandmendicancy.

OnesuchabeggarapproachedhimnearCleopatra’sNeedle,butasKing
Kerrypassedonwithouttakinganynoticeofhim,theoutcastcommenced
tohurlacurseathim.SuddenlyKingKerryturnedbackandthebeggar
shrunktowardstheparapetasifexpectingablow,butthepedestrianwas
nothostile.

Hestoodstraininghiseyesinthedarkness,whichwasmadethemore
bafflingbecauseofthegleamsofdistantlights,andhiscigarglowed
redandgrey.

“Whatdidyousay?”heaskedgently.“I’mafraidIwasthinkingof
somethingelsewhenyouspoke.”



“Giveapoorfellercreatureacoppertogetanight’slodgin’!”whined
theman.Hewasabundleofrags,andhislonghairandbushybeardwere
repulsiveeveninthelightwhichtheremoteelectricstandardsafforded.

“Giveacoppertogetanight’slodging?”repeatedtheother.

“An’thepriceofadri—ofacupofcoffee,”addedthemaneagerly.

“Why?”

Thequestionstaggeredthenightwanderer,andhewassilentfora
moment.

“WhyshouldIgiveyouthepriceofanight’slodging—orgiveyou
anythingatallwhichyouhavenotearned?”

Therewasnothingharshinthetone:itwasgentleandfriendly,andthe
mantookheart.

“Becauseyou’vegotitan’Iain’t,”hesaid—tohimaconvincingand
unanswerableargument.



Thegentlemanshookhishead.

“Thatisnoreason,”hesaid.“Howlongisitsinceyoudidanywork?”

Themanhesitated.Therewasauthorityinthevoice,despiteits
mildness.Hemightbea“split”—anditwouldnotpaytolietooneof
thosebusyfellows.

“I’veworkedorfan’on,”hesaidsullenly.“Ican’tgetworkwhatwith
foreynerstakin’thebreadoutofmemouthan’undersellin’us.”

Itwasanoldargument,andonewhichhehadfoundprofitable,
particularlywithacertaintypeofphilanthropist.

“Haveyoueverdoneaweek’sworkinyourlife,mybrother?”askedthe
gentleman.

Oneofthe“mybrother”sort,thoughtthetramp,anddrewfromhis
armourythenecessaryweaponsfortheattack.



“Well,sir,”hesaidmeekly,“theLordhaslaidagrievousafflictionon
mehead—”

Thegentlemanshookhisheadagain.

“Thereisnouseintheworldforyou,myfriend,”hesaidsoftly.“You
occupytheplaceandbreathetheairwhichmightbebetteremployed.
You’rethesortthatabsorbseverythingandgrowsnothing:youliveon
thecharityofworkingpeoplewhocannotaffordtogiveyouthe
hard-earnedpenceyourmiseryevokes.”

“Areyougoin’toallowafellercreaturetowalkaboutallnight?”
demandedthetrampaggressively.

“Ihavenothingtodowithit,mybrother,”saidtheothercoolly.“IfI
hadtheorderingofthingsIshouldnotletyouwalkabout.”

“Verywell,then,”beganthebeggar,alittleappeased.

“IshouldtreatyouinexactlythesamewayasIshouldtreatanyother
straydog—Ishouldputyououtoftheworld.”

Andheturnedtowalkon.

Thetramphesitatedforamoment,blackrageinhisheart.TheEmbankment
wasdeserted—therewasnosignofapoliceman.

“Here!”hesaidroughly,andgrippedKingKerry’sarm.

Onlyforasecond,thenahandliketeakstruckhimunderthejaw,andhe
wentblunderingintotheroadway,strivingtoregainhisbalance.

Dazedandshakenhestoodonthekerbwatchingtheleisurely
disappearanceofhisassailant.Perhapsifhefollowedandmadearowthe
strangerwouldgivehimashillingtoavoidthepublicityofthecourts;
butthenthetrampwasasanxiousasthestranger,probablymoreanxious,
toavoidpublicity.Todohimjustice,hehadnotallowedhisbeardto
groworrefrainedfromcuttinghishairbecausehewishedtoresemblean
anchorite,therewasanotherreason.Hewouldliketogetevenwiththe
manwhohadstruckhim—buttherewererisks.

“Youmadeamistake,didn’tyou?”



Thebeggarturnedwithasnarl.

AthiselbowstoodHermannZeberlieff,KingKerry’sshadower,whohad
beenaninterestedspectatorofallthathadhappened.

“Youmindyourownbusiness!”growledthebeggar,andwouldhaveslouched
onhisway.

“Waitamoment!”Theyoungmansteppedinhispath.Hishandwentinto
hispocket,andwhenhewithdrewithehadalittlehandfulofgoldand
silver.Heshookit;itjingledmusically.

“Whatwouldyoudoforatenner?”heasked.

Theman’swolfeyesweregluedtothemoney.

“Anything,”hewhispered,“anything,barmurder.”

“Whatwouldyoudoforfifty?”askedtheyoungman.



“I’d—I’ddomostanything,”croakedthetramphoarsely.

“ForfivehundredandafreepassagetoAustralia?”suggestedtheyoung
man,andhispiercingeyeswerefixedonthebeggar.

“Anything—anything!”almosthowledtheman.

Theyoungmannodded.

“Followme,”hesaid,“ontheothersideoftheroad.”

Theyhadnotbeengonemorethantenminuteswhentwomencamebriskly
fromthedirectionofWestminster.Theystoppedeverynowandagainto

flashthelightofanelectriclampuponthehumanwreckagewhichlolled
ineveryconceivableattitudeofslumberupontheseatsofthe
Embankment.Norweretheycontentwiththis,fortheyscrutinizedevery
passer-by—veryfewatthishourinthemorning.

Theymetaleisurelygentlemanstrollingtowardthem,andputaquestion
tohim.



“Yes,”saidhe,“curiouslyenoughIhavejustspokenwithhim–amanof
mediumheight,whospokewithaqueeraccent.IguessyouthinkIspeak
withaqueeraccenttoo,”hesmiled,“butthiswasaprovincial,I
reckon.”

“That’stheman,inspector,”saidoneofthetwoturningtotheother.
“Didhehaveatrickwhenspeakingofputtinghisheadononeside?”

Thegentlemannodded.

“MightIaskifheiswanted—Igatherthatyouarepoliceofficers?”

Themanaddressedhesitatedandlookedtohissuperior.

“Yes,sir,”saidtheinspector.“There’snoharmintellingyouthathis
nameisHoraceBaggin,andhe’swantedformurder—killedawarderof
DevizesGaolandescapedwhilstservingthefirstportionofaliferfor
manslaughter.Wehadwordthathe’sbeenseenabouthere.”

Theypassedonwithasalute,andKingKerry,foritwashe,continued

hisstrollthoughtfully.



“WhatamanforHermannZeberliefftofind?”hethought,anditwasa
coincidencethatatthatprecisemomenttheeffeminate-lookingZeberlieff
wasentertaininganunsavourytrampinhisParkLanestudy,plyinghim
withaparticularlyvillainouskindofvodka;andthetramp,withhis
beardedheadononesideashelistened,waslearningmoreaboutthe
perniciouswaysofAmericanmillionairesthanhehadeverdreamt.

“Offtheearthfellerslikethatoughttobe,”hesaidthickly.“Giveme
achance—hitmeonthejaw,hedid,theswine—I’llmillionairehim!”

“Haveanotherdrink,”saidZeberlieff.


CHAPTERII
The“tube”liftwascrowded,andElsieMarion,withanapprehensive
glanceattheclock,rapidlyweighedinhermindwhetheritwouldbebest
towaitforthenextliftandriskthecensureofMr.Tackorwhethershe
shouldsqueezeinbeforethegreatslidingdoorsclangedtogether.She
hatedlifts,andmostofallshehatedcrowdedlifts.Whilstshe
hesitatedthedoorsrolledtogetherwitha“Nextlift,please!”

Shestaredatthedoorblankly,annoyedatherownfolly.Thiswasthe
morningofallmorningswhenshewishedtobepunctual.

Tackhadbeenmildlygrievedbyherinnumerablefailings,andhadnagged
herpersistentlyforthegreaterpartoftheweek.Shewasunpunctual,

shewasuntidy,shewasslacktoacriminalextentforaladycashier
whoseefficiencyisreckonedbythequalitieswhich,asTackinsisted,
shedidnotpossess.

Thenightbeforehehadassembledthecashgirlsandhadsolemnlywarned
themthathewishedtoseethemintheirplacesatnineo’clocksharp.
Not,hewasattroubletoexplain,atnine-ten,oratnine-five,noteven


atnine-one—butastheclockinthetoweraboveTackandBrighton’s
magnificentestablishmentchimedthepreliminaryquartersbeforebooming
outthepreciseinformationthatnineo’clockhadindeedarrived,he
wishedeveryladytobeinherplace.

TherehadbeenstirringtimesatTackandBrighton’sduringthepast
threemonths.Anunaccountablespiritofgenerosityhadbeenevincedby
theproprietors—butithadbeenexercisedtowardsthepublicratherthan
infavouroftheunfortunateemployees.Themostextraordinaryreductions
inthesalepriceoftheirgoodsandthemostcheeseparingcurtailments
ofsellingcosthadresulted—sotraitorousmembersofthecounting-house
staffsaidsecretly—inavastlyincreasedturnoverand,insome
mysteriousfashion,invastlyincreasedprofits.

Somehintedthatthoseprofitswereentirelyfictitious,butthatwere
slanderonlytobehintedat,forwhyshouldTackandBrighten,aprivate
companywithnoshareholderstopleaseorpain,gooutoftheirwayto
fakemargins?Forthemoment,thestabilityofthefirmwasaminor
consideration.

Itwantedsevenminutestonine,andherewasElsieMarionatWestminster

BridgeRoadTubeStation,andTackandBrighton’sOxfordStreetpremises
exactlytwelveminutesaway.Sheshruggedherprettyshoulders.Onemight
aswellbehangedforasheepasalamb,shethought.Butshewasangry
withherselfatherownstupidity.Thenextliftwouldbeascrowded—she
wasleftinnodoubtastothat,foritwasfullassoonasthedoors
wereopen—andshemighthavesavedthreepreciousminutes.

Shewascrowdedtothesideoftheliftandwasthankfulthatthe
unsavouryandoftenuncleanlypatronsofthelineatthishourinthe
morningwereseparatedfromherbyatallmanwhostoodimmediately
beforeher.

Hewasbareheaded,andhisgreyhairwasneatlybrushedandpomaded.His
highforehead,clean-cutaquilinenoseandfirmchin,gavehimanairof
refinementandsuggestedbreed.Hiseyeswereblueanddeep-set,hislips
atriflethin,andhischeek-bones,withoutbeingprominent,were
noticeableonhissun-tannedface.Allthisshetookininoneidle
glance.Shewonderedwhohewas,andforwhatreasonhewasatraveller
soearlyinthemorning.Hewaswell-dressed,andasingleblackpearlin
hiscravatwassuggestiveofwealth.Hishatheheldbetweenhistwo
handsacrosshisbreast.HewasanAmerican,shegathered,because


Americansinvariablyremovedtheirhatsinelevatorswhenwomenwere
present.

Theliftsankdownwardtotheplatformsixtyfeetbelow,andasitdid
sheheardthefaintsoundofa“ting,”whichtoldhershehadmisseda

train.Thatwouldmeananotherthreeminutes’wait.Shecouldhavecried
withvexation.Itwasaseriousmatterforher—anorphangirlabsolutely
aloneintheworldanddependentuponherownexertionsforalivelihood.
Cashierswereadrugonthemarket,andhershorthandandtypewriting
lessonshadonlyadvancedtoastagewhereshedespairedoftheirgetting
anyfurther.

Hersalarywasverysmall,andshethoughtregretfullyofthedayswhen
shehadspentmorethanthatonshoes,beforedearoldspendthriftAunt
Marthahaddied,leavingheradopteddaughterwithnogreaterprovision
forthefuturethanaCheltenhameducation,aten-poundnote,anda
massivebroochcontainingalockfromtheheadofAuntMartha’sloveof
thesixties.

Betweenthebeginningofalift’sascentandthemomentthedoorsopen
againagirlwiththecaresoflifeuponhercanreviewmorethanaman


canwriteinayear.BeforethegiantelevatortouchedbottomElsie
Marionhadfacedthefutureandfounditalittlebleak.Shewasaware,
assheturnedtomakeherexit,thatthetallmanbeforeherwaswatching
hercuriously.Itwasnottherudestaretowhichshehadnowgrown
callous,butthedeeper,piercingglanceofonewhowasgenuinely
interested.Shesuspectedtheinevitablesmutonhernose,andfumbled
forherhandkerchief.

Thestrangersteppedasidetoletherpassdownfirst,andshewas
compelledtoacknowledgethecourtesywithalittlenod.Hefollowedher
closely,instincttoldherthat;butsomanypeoplewerefollowing
closelyinthathurriedslithertotheplatform.

Therewassometimetowait–twofullminutes—andshestrolledtothe
desertedendoftheplatformtogetawayfromthecrowd.Shedisliked
crowdsatalltimes,andthismorningshehatedthem.

“Excuseme!”

Shehadheardthatformofintroductionbefore,buttherewassomething
inthevoicewhichnowaddressedherwhichwasunlikeanyofthe


impertinentoverturestowhichshehadgrownaccustomed.

Sheturnedandconfrontedthestranger.Hewaslookingatherwitha
pleasantlittlesmile.

“You’llthinkI’mcrazy,Iguess,”hesaid;“butsomehowIjusthadto
comealongandtalktoyou—you’rescaredofelevators?”

Shemighthavefrozenhim—atleast,shemighthavetried—butforsome
unaccountablereasonshefeltgladtotalktohim.Hewasthekindofman
shehadknownintheheydayofAuntMartha’sprosperity.

“Iamalittlescared,”shesaid,withaquicksmile.“Itisabsurd,
becausetheyaresosafe.”

Henodded.

“I’malittlescaredmyself,”heconfessedeasily.“NotthatI’mafraid
ofdying,butwhenIthinkofthethousandsofhumanbeingswhosefuture

restsuponmeandmylife—whymyhairgoesupeverytimeIcrossthe
street.”



Hewasnotaskinghertobeinterestedinhimself.Shefeltthathewas
justvoicingathoughtthathadoccurredtohiminasimple,naturalway.
Shelookedathimwithgreaterinterest.

“I’vejustbeenbuyingalunaticasylum,”hesaid,andwithaninquiring
liftofhiseyebrows,whichatonceaskedpermissionandofferedthanks
whenitwasgranted,helitacigar.

Shestaredathimandhelaughed.

Whilstsuspicionwasgatheringinhereyes,thetraincamehissinginto
thestation.

Thegirlsawwithdismaythatitwascrowded,andthemobwhichbesieged
eachdoorwaywastendeep.

“Youwon’tcatchthis,”saidthemancalmly.“There’llbeanotherina
minute.”

“I’mafraidImusttry,”saidthegirl,andhurriedalongtowherethe


surgingthrongwerestrugglingtogetaboard.

Herstrangecompanionfollowedwithlongstrides,butevenwithhis

assistancetherewasnochanceofobtainingfoothold,andshewasleft
behindwithascoreofothers.“Time’smoney,”saidthegrey-haired
strangercheerfully.“Don’tbemeanwithit!”

“Ican’taffordtobeanythingelse,”saidthegirl,pardonably
exasperated.“Possiblyyouhaven’ttofacethewrathofanemployerwith
awatchinhishandanddoomonhisface.”

Shelaughedalittleinspiteofhervexation.

“I’msosorry,”shepleaded;“butIdidnotintendallowingmyselfthe
luxuryofagrumbleaboutmyworries—youweresayingyouhaveboughta
lunaticasylum.”

Henodded,atwinkleinhiseye.

“AndyouwerethinkingIhadjustescapedfromone,”hesaidaccusingly.
“Yes,I’vejustboughttheColdharbourAsylum—lock,stock,andbarrel—”



Shelookedathimincredulously.

“Doyoumeanthat?”sheasked,andherscepticismwasjustified,forthe
ColdharbourAsylumisthelargestinLondon,andthesecondlargestin
theworld.

“Imeanit,”hesaid.“Iamgoingtobuildthecutestresidentialclubin
Londononthatsite.”

Therewasnotimetosayanymore.Anothertraincameinand,escortedby
thegrey-hairedman,whointheshortestspaceoftimehadassumeda
guardianshipoverherwhichwasatoncecomfortinganddisconcerting,she
foundaseatinasmokingcarriage.Itwassoeasytochatwithhim,so
easytoconfidehopesandfearswhichtillthatmomentshehadnotput
intowords.

ShefoundherselfatOxfordCircusalltoosoon,andobliviousofthe
factthatthehandsofthestationclockpointedtotwentyminutesafter
nine.“Asheepasalamb,”saidherfootstepshollowly,asshewent
leisurelyalongthevaultedpassage-waytothelift.