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Page 22
"I know it," said Brinn, shortly.
He shot out one long arm and grasped Harley's shoulder as in a
vice. "I'm counted a wealthy man," he continued, "but I'd give
every cent I possess to see 'paid' put to the bill of a certain
person. Listen. You don't think I was in any way concerned in the
death of Sir Charles Abingdon? It isn't thinkable. But you do
think I'm in possession of facts which would help you find out
who is. You're right."
"Good God!" cried Harley. "Yet you remain silent!"
"Not so loud--not so loud!" implored Brinn, repeating that odd,
almost furtive glance around. "Mr. Harley--you know me. You've
heard of me and now you've met me. You know my place in the
world. Do you believe me when I say that from this moment onward
I don't trust my own servants? Nor my own friends?" He removed
his grip from Harley's shoulder. "Inanimate things look like
enemies. That mummy over yonder may have ears!"
"I'm afraid I don't altogether understand you."
"See here!"
Nicol Brinn crossed to a bureau, unlocked it, and while Harley
watched him curiously, sought among a number of press cuttings.
Presently he found the cutting for which he was looking. "This
was said," he explained, handing the slip to Harley, "at the
Players' Club in New York, after a big dinner in pre-dry days. It
was said in confidence. But some disguised reporter had got in
and it came out in print next morning. Read it."
Paul Harley accepted the cutting and read the following:
NICOL BRINN'S SECRET AMBITIONS
MILLIONAIRE SPORTSMAN WHO WANTS TO SHOOT
NIAGARA!
Mr. Nicol Brinn of Cincinnati, who is at present in New York,
opened his heart to members of the Players' Club last night. Our
prominent citizen, responding to a toast, "the distinguished
visitor," said:
"I'd like to live through months of midnight frozen in among the
polar ice; I'd like to cross Africa from east to west and get
lost in the middle. I'd like to have a Montana sheriff's posse on
my heels for horse stealing, and I've prayed to be wrecked on a
desert island like Robinson Crusoe to see if I am man enough to
live it out. I want to stand my trial for murder and defend my
own case, and I want to be found by the eunuchs in the harem of
the Shah. I want to dive for pearls and scale the Matterhorn. I
want to know where the tunnel leads to--the tunnel down under the
Great Pyramid of Gizeh--and I'd love to shoot Niagara Falls in a
barrel."
"It sounds characteristic," murmured Harley, laying the slip on
the coffee table.
"It's true!" declared Brinn. "I said it and I meant it. I'm a
glutton for danger, Mr. Harley, and I'm going to tell you why.
Something happened to me seven years ago--"
"In India?"
"In India. Correct. Something happened to me, sir, which just
took the sunshine out of life. At the time I didn't know all it
meant. I've learned since. For seven years I have been flirting
with death and hoping to fall!"
Harley stared at him uncomprehendingly. "More than ever I fail to
understand."
"I can only ask you to be patient, Mr. Harley. Time is a
wonderful doctor, and I don't say that in seven years the old
wound hasn't healed a bit. But to-night you have, unknowingly,
undone all that time had done. I'm a man that has been down into
hell. I bought myself out. I thought I knew where the pit was
located. I thought I was well away from it, Mr. Harley, and you
have told me something tonight which makes me think that it isn't
where I supposed at all, but hidden down here right under our
feet in London. And we're both standing on the edge!"
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