FROM OUT THE PAST
After Boyne, his wife, and Ena Pollen—the trio of death-dealers—received the news of the death of Augusta Morrison, the go-to-meeting insurance agent of Hammersmith had left the flat and gone forth into Upper Brook Street. He had to meet a man in the smoke-room of the Carlton.
Suddenly, as he passed beneath a street lamp on his way towards Park Lane, a well-dressed girl accosted him, exclaiming with a strong French accent:
"Ah! M'sieur Bennett! At last! I have wanted to see you for—oh! for so long—long time!"
Boyne started. The maid, Céline, for it was she, was the very last person in the world that he desired to meet at that moment. All had been successfully conducted concerning Augusta Morrison, but here arose the aftermath of a very ugly affair—the death of old Mr. Martin in Chiswick.
At first he pretended not to recognise the girl who had been paid off by Ena, for he hoped to wriggle out of the precarious situation by bluff.
"No, no, m'sieur," cried the girl. "Surely you recollect me! I am Céline—who was maid to madame—your friend! You remember poor Mr. Martin—who died so suddenly—eh?" she asked.
He tried to extricate himself, but instantly it occurred to him that she was resuming her blackmail, and that if they were to save themselves, she must be paid more money. She knew something concerning old Martin's sudden end. That was plain. Therefore, she would have to be silenced. In every walk of life to-day the blackmailer of both sexes is to be found in one guise or another.
"And are you really Céline?" he laughed, halting beneath the next lamp, for she had joined him and had walked beside him.
"I am. Madame lives in the house you have just left. I saw her in Melun a little time ago. She so kindly called upon me."