Read (1929) The Three Just Men for Free Online

peculiarities which would appeal to me?”
    “Burnt feet,” said Leon promptly. “If you would like to learn how the coastal intelligence department extract information from unwilling victims, come along.”
    Elver hesitated. He was a man burnt up by the Indian suns, wizened like a dried yellow apple, and he had no interest in the world beyond his work.
    “I’ll go with you,” he said, stepping into the car. “And if your Barberton man fails you, you can have me as a guest. I like to hear you talking. One cannot know too much of the criminal mind! And life is dull since the snake stopped biting!”
    The car made towards Blackfriars Bridge, and Manfred kept watch of the sidewalk. There was no sign of Barberton, and he signalled Leon to turn and come back. This brought the machine to the Embankment side of the broad boulevard. They had passed under Waterloo Bridge and were nearing Cleopatra’s Needle when Gonsalez saw the man they were seeking.
    He was leaning against the parapet, his elbows on the coping and his head sunk forward as though he were studying the rush of the tide below. The car pulled up near a policeman who was observing the lounger thoughtfully. The officer recognized the police surgeon and saluted.
    “Can’t understand that bird, sir,” he said. “He’s been standing there for ten minutes. I’m keepin’ an eye on him, because he looks to me like a suicide who’s thinkin’ it over!”
    Manfred approached the man, and suddenly, with a shock, saw his face. It was set in a grin—the eyes were wide open, the skin a coppery red.
    “Elver! Leon!”
    As Leon sprang from the car, Manfred touched the man’s shoulder and he fell limply to the ground. In a second the doctor was on his knees by the side of the still figure.
    “Dead,” he said laconically, and then: “Good God!”
    He pointed to the neck, where a red patch showed.
    “What is that?” asked Manfred steadily.
    “The snake!” said the doctor.
    CHAPTER FIVE - THE GOLDEN WOMAN
    BARBERTON had been stricken down in the heart of London, under the very eyes of the policeman, it proved.
    “Yes, sir, I’ve had him under observation for a quarter of an hour. I saw him walking along the Embankment, admiring the view, long before he stopped here.”
    “Did anybody go near him to speak to him?” asked Dr. Elver, looking up.
    “No, sir, he stood by himself. I’ll swear that nobody was within two yards of him. Of course, people have been passing to and fro, but I have been looking at him all the time, and I’ve not seen man or woman within yards of him, and my eyes were never off him.”
    A second policeman had appeared on the scene, and he was sent across to Scotland Yard in Manfred’s car for the ambulance and the police reserves necessary to clear and keep in circulation the gathering crowd. These returned simultaneously, and the two friends watched the pitiable thing lifted into a stretcher, and waited until the white-bodied vehicle had disappeared with its sad load before they returned to their machine.
    Gonsalez took his place at the wheel; George got in by his side. No word was spoken until they were back at Curzon Street. Manfred went in alone, whilst his companion drove the machine to the garage. When he returned, he found Poiccart and George deep in discussion.
    “You were right, Raymond.” Leon Gonsalez stripped his thin coat and threw it on a chair. “The accuracy of your forecasts is almost depressing. I am waiting all the time for the inevitable mistake, and I am irritated when this doesn’t occur. You said the snake would reappear, and the snake has reappeared. Prophesy now for me, O seer!”
    Poiccart’s heavy face was gloomy; his dark eyes almost hidden under the frown that brought his bushy eyebrows lower.
    “One hasn’t to be a seer to know that our association with Barberton will send the snake wriggling towards Curzon Street,” he said. “Was it Gurther or Pfeiffer?”
    Manfred considered.
    “Pfeiffer, I think.