The Red Widow: or, The Death-Dealers of London. Le Queux William

he remarked, smiling.

      "Exactly. As you know, I paid a visit in secret to Carsphairn six weeks ago, and found out quite a lot. This I retailed to the Emerys, and they took it all in. I described Carsphairn to them, and showed them the snapshots of the place which I took surreptitiously when I was up there. Indeed, I gave a couple of them to Mrs. Emery – to make evidence."

      "Excellent!" he exclaimed. "You never leave anything undone, Ena."

      "One must be thorough in everything if one desires success."

      "And what is your address?"

      "I gave it to my own flat in Upper Brook Street – care of Ena Pollen – widow."

      "So you will come to London?"

      "Yes – I have to go there shopping before I return to Scotland," she replied grimly. "I am staying with Mrs. Pollen."

      "Good! It will be far the best for their London doctors to examine you. If you were examined up here they might resist the claim. If they did that – well, it would open up the whole business, and we certainly can't afford to arouse the very least little bit of doubt."

      "Hardly," she laughed. "Well, I've played the game properly, my dear Bernie. My name is Morrison, and I am the widow of old Joe Morrison, the woman with the red hair, and I live at Carsphairn, Kirkcudbrightshire, the fine sporting estate left me by my late husband. All that is upon the records of the Universal Life Assurance Corporation."

      "Excellent! You've established an undeniable identity – red hair and everything!" he said, again gazing reflectively out across the rippling waters. "You have taken the first step."

      "The second move is that Mrs. Morrison goes to London on a shopping visit, prior to going abroad," the widow said.

      "Really, you are marvellous, Ena!" declared the humble insurance agent of Hammersmith. "Your foresight always carries you to success."

      "In a number of cases it has done so, I admit," the woman laughed. "When one's identity is not exactly as one represents, one has to have one's eyes skinned day and night. Men – even the shrewdest lawyers – are always easily gulled. Why? Because of the rapacious maws the legal profession have for fees. Women are always dangerous, for they are too frequently jealous of either good looks or pretty frocks. A man I can usually manage – a woman, seldom, unless she is in love. Then I side with her in her love affair and so gain her confidence."

      "Ena, I repeat I hold you in admiration as one of the cleverest women I have ever known. Nothing deters you – nothing perturbs you! You fix a plan, and you carry it through in your own way – always with profit to our little combination."

      "And very substantial profit, I venture to think, eh?"

      "I agree," he said, with a grim laugh.

      "All thanks to you, my dear Bernie," the red-haired woman said. "But really I am growing just a little apprehensive. Why – I don't know, I cannot tell. But somehow I fear we may play the game once too often. And what then – eh?"

      "Funnily enough, I've experienced the same curiously apprehensive feeling of late," he said. "I always try, of course, to crush it out, just as I crush out any other little pricks of conscience which occur to me when I awake in the mornings."

      "Very strange that we should both of us entertain apprehensive feelings!" she remarked very thoughtfully. "I hope it's no ill omen! Do you think it is?"

      "No," he laughed. "Don't let us seek trouble – for Heaven's sake. At present there is not the slightest danger. Of that I feel confident. Let us go forward. When shall you go up to London?"

      "To-morrow. I go to visit my dear friend, Mrs. Pollen – as I have told you."

      He laughed.

      "So really you are going on a visit to yourself – eh? Excellent! Really you are unique, Ena!"

      "Well – it is the only way, and it will work well."

      Then the strange pair, who were upon such intimate terms, rose and strolled leisurely side by side back towards the opposite end of the promenade, chatting merrily the while.

      When approaching the Beach Hotel they halted, and the woman bade the man good-bye. Afterwards he sank upon a seat in one of the shelters, while she walked on and entered the hotel.

      Not until half an hour later, after he had taken a stroll along to the end of the pier, where the band was still playing, did he return to the hotel. Mrs. Morrison was at the moment sitting in the lounge chatting with two men visitors. The eyes of the pair met as he passed, but neither gave any sign of recognition.

      To those in the lounge the two were absolutely strangers to each other.

      Little did the other visitors dream of the dastardly, even demoniacal, plot that was being so skilfully woven in their midst.

      Next afternoon Bernard Boyne stepped from out of the Holyhead express upon Euston platform and drove in a taxi to Pont Street, where he was greeted warmly by his wife, who had been informed of his advent by telegram from Chester.

      "Well?" she asked, when the door of the luxurious drawing-room was closed and they were alone. "And how did you find Ena?"

      "She's splendid! All goes well," was his enthusiastic reply. "She's got hold of a young Manchester solicitor who is carrying the policy through all right. He happens to be an agent of the Universal. She's on her way back to London now. I wasn't seen with her in the hotel, of course."

      "When is she coming here?"

      "To-night at nine. She wants to see you."

      "I think the less she sees of me just now the better, don't you, Bernie?"

      "I quite agree. We don't want anyone to recognise you as friends when the time comes," replied Boyne. "As soon as she gets passed by the doctors – both of them unknown to any of us – which is a blessing – she'll have to go up to Scotland."

      "To New Galloway again?"

      "No. To Ardlui, that pretty little village at the head of Loch Lomond. The inquiries I have been making of the servants at Carsphairn show that it is the lady's intention to go with her maid to Ardlui for a fortnight, and thence to Edinburgh for another fortnight."

      "Really, Bernie, you are wonderful in the way you pry into people's intentions."

      "Only by knowing the habits and intentions of our friends can we hope to be successful," was his reply, as he flung himself back among the silken cushions of the couch and lazily lit a cigarette.

      "So Ena will have to go to Scotland again?"

      "Yes. She ought to pass the doctors in a week, for this young fellow is pushing it through because of the handsome fee she will give him, and then, in the following week, she must put on her best frocks and best behaviour and take a 'sleeper' on the nine twenty-five from Euston to Glasgow."

      "What an adventure!" remarked the handsome woman before him.

      "Of course. But we are out for big money this time, remember."

      "You have examined the whole affair, I suppose, and considered it from every standpoint – eh?"

      "Of course I have. As far as I can discover, there is no flaw in our armour. This young solicitor is newly married, and is much gratified that the wealthy Mrs. Morrison should take such notice of his young wife. But you know Ena well enough to be sure that she plays the game all right. She's the rich widow to the very letter, and talks about her 'dear husband' in a manner that is really pathetic. She declares that they were such a devoted couple."

      "Yes. Ena can play the game better than any woman in England," agreed his wife. "Have some tea?"

      "No; it's too hot," he replied. "Get me some lemonade."

      And she rose, and presently brought him a glass of lemonade. She preferred to wait upon him, for she was always suspicious of the maids trying to listen to their conversation, which, however, was discreet and well guarded.

      That night at about half-past nine, husband and wife having dined together tête-à-tête– being waited on by the smart young Italian footman – Ena Pollen was ushered into the