“She also has a key, or will have to-morrow. And Jimmy——”
A laugh interrupted him. “Curt” Goyle had been an attentive listener till Jimmy’s name was mentioned, then his harsh, mirthless laugh broke the tense silence.
“Oh, Lord James is in it, is he? I’m one that’s for ruling Jimmy out.” He got up on his feet and stretched himself, keeping his eye fixed on Connor. “If you want to know why, I’ll tell ye. Jimmy’s a bit too finicking for my taste, too fond of the police for my taste. If we’re in this, Jimmy’s out of it,” and a mutter of approval broke from the men.
Connor’s mind was working quickly. He could do without Jimmy, he could not dispense with the help of the “Lot.” He was just a little afraid of Jimmy. The man was a type of criminal he could not understand. If he was a rival claimant for Reale’s millions, the gang would “out” Jimmy; so much the better. Massey’s removal had limited the legatees to three. Jimmy out of the way would narrow the chance of his losing the money still further; and the other legatee was in the room upstairs. Goyle’s declaration had set loose the tongues of the men, and he could hear no voice that spoke for Jimmy. And then a dozen voices demanded the rest of the story, and amid a dead silence Connor told the story of the will and the puzzle-verse, the solving of which meant fortune to every man.
“And the girl has got to stand in and take her share. She’s too dangerous to be let loose. There’s nigh on two millions at stake and I’m taking no risks. She shall remain here till the word is found. We’re not going to see her carry off the money under our very noses.”
“And Jimmy?” Goyle asked.
Connor fingered a lapel of his coat nervously. He knew what answer the gang had already framed to the question Goyle put. He knew he would be asked to acquiesce in the blackest piece of treachery that had ever disfigured his evil life; but he knew, too, that Jimmy was hated by the men who formed this strange fraternity. Jimmy worked alone; he shared neither risk nor reward. His cold cynicism was above their heads. They too feared him.
Connor cleared his throat
“Perhaps if we reasoned——”
Goyle and Bat exchanged swift glances.