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Page 38
Now, in silence we stood around that table at New Scotland Yard
and watched, as though we expected it to move, the ghastly "clue"
which lay there. It was a shrivelled human hand, and about the
thumb and forefinger there still dryly hung a fragment of lint
which had bandaged a jagged wound. On one of the shrunken fingers
was a ring set with a large opal.
Inspector Bristol broke the oppressive silence.
"You see, sir," he said, addressing the Commissioner, "this marks
a new complication in the case. Up to this week although,
unfortunately, we had made next to no progress, the thing was
straightforward enough. A band of Eastern murderers, working along
lines quite novel to Europe, were concealed somewhere in London.
We knew that much. They murdered Professor Deeping, but failed to
recover the slipper. They mutilated everyone who touched it
mysteriously. The best men in the department, working night and
day, failed to effect a single arrest. In spite of the mysterious
activity of Hassan of Aleppo the slipper was safely lodged in the
British Antiquarian Museum."
The Commissioner nodded thoughtfully.
"There is no doubt," continued Bristol, "that the Hashishin were
watching the Museum. Mr. Cavanagh, here"--he nodded in my
direction--" saw Hassan himself lurking in the neighbourhood. We
took every precaution, observed the greatest secrecy; but in
spite of it all a constable who touched the accursed thing lost
his right hand. Then the slipper was taken."
He stopped, and all eyes again were turned to the table.
"The Yard," resumed Bristol slowly, "had information that Earl
Dexter, the cleverest crook in America, was in England. He was
seen in the Museum, and the night following the slipper was stolen.
Then outside the place I found--that!"
He pointed to the severed hand. No one spoke for a moment. Then--
"The new problem," said the Commissioner, "is this: who took the
slipper, Dexter or Hassan of Aleppo?"
"That's it, sir," agreed Bristol. "Dexter had two passages booked
in the Oceanic: but he didn't sail with her, and--that's his hand!"
"You say he has not been traced?" asked the Commissioner.
"No doctor known to the Medical Association," replied Bristol, "is
attending him! He's not in any of the hospitals. He has completely
vanished. The conclusion is obvious!"
"The evident deduction," I said, "is that Dexter stole the slipper
from the Museum--God knows with what purpose--and that Hassan of
Aleppo recovered it from him."
"You think we shall next hear of Earl Dexter from the river police?"
suggested Bristol.
"Personally," replied the Commissioner, "I agree with Mr. Cavanagh.
I think Dexter is dead, and it is very probable that Hassan and
Company are already homeward bound with the slipper of the Prophet."
With all my heart I hoped that he might be right, but an intuition
was with me crying that he was wrong, that many bloody deeds would
be, ere the sacred slipper should return to the East.
CHAPTER XVI
THE DWARF
The manner in which we next heard of the whereabouts of the Prophet's
slipper was utterly unforeseen, wildly dramatic. That the Hashishin
were aware that I, though its legal trustee, no longer had charge
of the relic nor knowledge of its resting-place, was sufficiently
evident from the immunity which I enjoyed at this time from that
ceaseless haunting by members of the uncanny organization ruled by
Hassan. I had begun to feel more secure in my chambers, and no
longer worked with a loaded revolver upon the table beside me. But
the slightest unusual noise in the night still sufficed to arouse
me and set me listening intently, to chill me with dread of what
it might portend. In short, my nerves were by no means recovered
from the ceaseless strain of the events connected with and arising
out of the death of my poor friend, Professor Deeping.
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