Chapter XVII

IN WHICH THE CITY IS PUZZLED, AND ARTHUR WHARTON LETS A KITTEN OUT
OF THE BAG

"I'm damned if I can make it out at all," said one stockbroker to another in the train, as they sped back to their homes at Croydon. "Anglo-Asiatics rose another point to-day ... and they ought, by all the rules of the game, to be falling."

"They fell pretty heavily after the murder of that fellow Radlett," said the other.

"And for some time before," said the first speaker, "except for that rise when the report of that proposed concession in Russia leaked out."

"But it was the murder knocked the bottom out of them."

"Yes, that's what makes it so odd they should be rising now. Especially with that chap Pasquett refusing to contradict the rumour that the whole thing is off. And I know for a fact that Vanzetti has been selling. He was cursing round at the club about his luck. The shares rose just after he'd sold a big block at a heavy loss."

"Vanzetti ought to know, one would think. But it's clear enough some one's been buying--heavily. Some one must have inside information. I'm half inclined to buy myself."

"I agree somebody's been monkeying with the market. The trouble is to know whether some one was 'bearing' the shares till this last week or so, or whether some one's bulling them now. If you buy now, you stand to make if it's a bear, but you get let in if it's a bull. I shall keep out of it till things get a bit clearer."

"I'm putting my money on it being a 'bear.'"

"Who's the bear, then?"

His friend lowered his voice. "What's to stop that chap Pasquett from pretending to stay out when he means to come in? Down comes the price, and he buys--cheap. Then he says he's coming in. Up goes the price, and he sells--dear. Smart! That's what I think."

"There's more than one buyer in it, anyway. Smithers was saying there were at least two big buyers in the field."

"And between them, they'll soon spoil their own game by forcing up the price. Eh?"

"Oh, if that concession comes off, it'll go up much further yet. But what's to stop the whole thing being a bull? Suppose Ealing is trying to force up the price of his own shares, and there's nothing really behind it?"

"That would hardly square with Vanzetti selling out."

"Not unless Ealing was doing a bit on his own, without letting Vanzetti know, and I admit that's hardly likely. Still, it may be a bull for all that."

"There'll be some heavy selling pretty soon if it is. But I can't believe that. My instinct is to buy, and hold for a big rise."

"Well, you know your own business best, old chap. But I shan't touch it. It looks to me a fishy business, and I'll keep out. I've got a family to keep, I have."

There were a good many conversations of this kind during the days following John Pasquett's arrival in England. On the day following his conversation with Lord Ealing, many of the newspapers published a paragraph, "from a well-informed source," stating positively that Pasquett had refused to go in with the Anglo-Asiatic, and that the concession was off. This was denied the next day in general terms, by Lord Ealing, himself, but Pasquett, interviewed at his hotel, refused to make any statement, and, in face of this, Lord Ealing's denial produced no effect. Lord Ealing had not said that the concession was going on; he had only denied that it was settled that it was not. The City drew its own inferences from Pasquett's silence. There was a further heavy drop in Anglo-Asiatics.

Then, mysteriously, for no reason that anybody could give a name to at first, they began to rise, and continued slowly and steadily rising. The City became aware that there were big buyers in the field, but there was no means of ascertaining who these buyers were or what they were up to. Their identity was carefully kept dark, and the City was left to draw its own deductions. How these varied can be seen from the conversation reported above. The rise might be a product of legitimate buying, perhaps following a definite scheme to force down the shares, or it might be mere speculative buying by some group that was engineering a bull. How was a fellow to tell?

* * * * *

Before the rise began, or it was known that large buyers were in the field, the three leaders of the Anglo-Asiatic had many agitated talks together, and Vanzetti, who had made another unsuccessful attempt to get Pasquett to talk business, and had been thoroughly snubbed for his pains, came to Lord Ealing one day and announced that, unless he got an assurance that Pasquett was coming in with him, he should sell out his holdings in the Anglo-Asiatic. "Look here, Ealing," he said, "if these infernal shares drop any lower, I'm done. I believe that blighter Pasquett means to let us down. Blaikie says he's been talking about going in with a French syndicate. It's all humbug, of course, refusing to talk business till he's avenged Radlett's murder. Damned nonsense! He's fixing things up with the French chaps behind our backs. What do you say, eh? Shall we sell?"

"You must use your own judgment, Vanzetti. Personally, I shall stick to my shares, and trust to Pasquett to play straight. You may sell: I shall hold--for the present."

"It's not so bad for you," said the big man. "You can stand it. You ain't got anything out of Pasquett, have you? I mean, he hasn't tipped you the wink?"

"My dear fellow, the only possible course with Mr. Pasquett is to let him have his own way. If we press him for a decision now, he'll only say 'No.'"

"Well, Ealing, I tell you straight, I believe he's double-crossing us. You can hold if you like; I'm selling."

So Vanzetti sold his shares, while Lord Ealing--well, anyhow, the day after Vanzetti sold, Anglo-Asiatics began to rise.

* * * * *

John Pasquett was still in London, at the Avenue Hotel. He was making good progress with his plan of getting upon terms with the British Bolshevik leaders, and had begun discreetly pushing his inquiries among them. He had made a speech or two about the necessity of recognising Russia and re-opening effective trade relations as a means of preventing unemployment, and he told Superintendent Wilson that he was getting on well, and hoped soon to come by definite news of Rosenbaum's whereabouts. Bolshevism was very active on the Clyde, and he had made up his mind to go there with introductions from the London leaders. Before leaving, he had arranged to see Wilson once more in order to talk over what he should do if he got on Rosenbaum's track while he was in Glasgow.

The police, meanwhile, had been doing all they could to trace Rosenbaum's movements further. The last they knew of him was that, after repeating his now familiar manœuvre at Charing Cross, he had driven off again in another taxi; but no sign of the driver of the taxi could be discovered. This was not really surprising, for the unfortunate driver had, on the day on which he picked up Rosenbaum, caught the prevalent influenza and taken to his bed. He had died three days later, quite unconscious of holding in his possession a valuable clue. The Rosenbaum trail thus came to a dead end, and all Blaikie's efforts to pick it up again were so far unavailing.

Blaikie had more luck, however, in following out Wilson's instructions to discover who was the Arthur Wharton who had been inquiring for Pasquett in Warsaw. When he found that Wharton was employed by the Anglo-Asiatic, he whistled to himself, and decided to do nothing further without consulting Wilson. The Superintendent sent him back to Wharton with a straight question, which put that young man in a very awkward predicament. "Why," Blaikie asked him, "were you inquiring after Mr. Pasquett in Warsaw?" Arthur replied that he had gone to Warsaw on business for the Anglo-Asiatic, and had known that the Corporation were very anxious to get into touch with Pasquett.

"What made you think he was in Warsaw?" asked the Inspector.

"Er ... Radlett's lawyer, Mr. Franklin, thought he might be," said Arthur, after a vain mental search for some way of escape.

"Oh, Mr. Franklin thought so. Was it on his behalf you went out?"

"Partly. I went on business."

"Who sent you?"

"The Anglo-Asiatic."

"From what individual did you get your instructions?"

"From my uncle--Lord Ealing," said Arthur, miserably.

"Why couldn't you have said that at first?" said the Inspector.

When Blaikie reported this conversation to Superintendent Wilson, the latter said merely, "That was what I thought." But he asked both Lord Ealing and his nephew to call upon him at Scotland Yard on the following day. The incident was probably unimportant, but, even if it was, Lord Ealing must be made aware that his attempt to steal a march on the police had not passed unnoticed. He would see Lord Ealing first, and then the young man who had been his instrument in this little piece of chicanery. Politely, of course, he meant to give them each a piece of his mind. And the interview might be the means of getting something further out of Lord Ealing.