Killer Dolphin by Ngaio Marsh Read Free Book Online Page A

Conducis has taken your point, Mr. Jay, and wonders if you yourself would be so obliging as to act for him in this respect.”
    Peregrine, in a kind of trance, said: “Are the glove and documents insured?”
    “They are covered by a general policy, but they have not been specifically insured since their value is unknown.”
    “I feel the responsibility would be—”
    “I appreciate your hesitation and I may say I put the point to Mr. Conducis. He still wishes me to ask you to undertake this mission.”
    There was a short silence.
    “Sir,” said Peregrine, “why is Mr. Conducis doing all this? Why is he giving me at least the chance of undertaking such fantastically responsible jobs? What possible motive can he have? I hope,” Peregrine continued with a forthrightness that became him very well, “that I’m not such an ass as to suppose I can have made an impression in the least degree commensurable with the proposals you’ve put before me and I—I—” He felt himself reddening and ran out of words.
    Mr. Greenslade had watched him, he thought with renewed attention. He now lifted his spectacles with both hands, held them poised daintily over his blotter and said, apparently to them: “A reasonable query.”
    “Well—I hope so.”
    “And one which I am unable to answer.”
    “Oh?”
    “Yes. I will,” said Mr. Greenslade, evenly, “be frank with you, Mr. Jay. I am at a loss to know why Mr. Conducis is taking this action. If, however, I have interpreted your misgivings correctly I can assure you they are misplaced.” Suddenly, almost dramatically, Mr. Greenslade became human, good-tempered and coarse. “He’s not that way inclined,” he said and laid down his spectacles.
    “I’m extremely glad to hear it.”
    “You will undertake the commission?”
    “Yes, I will.”
    “Splendid.”
    The expert folded his hands and leaned back in his chair.
    “Well,” he said, “I think we may say with certainty this is a glove of late sixteenth- or early seventeenth-century workmanship. It has, at some time, been exposed to salt-water but not extensively. One might surmise that it was protected. The little desk is very much stained. Upon the letters H.S. inside the gauntlet I am unable to give an authoritative opinion but could, of course, obtain one. As for these two really rather startling documents: they can be examined and submitted to a number of tests—Infra-red, spectrography and so on—not in my province, you know. If they’ve been concocted it will certainly be discovered.”
    “Would you tell me how I can get the full treatment for them?”
    “Oh, I think we could arrange that, you know. But we would want written permission from the owner, full insurance and so on. You’ve told me nothing, so far, of the history, have you?”
    “No,” Peregrine said. “But I will. With this proviso, if you don’t mind: the owner, or rather his solicitor on his behalf, has given me permission to disclose his name to you on your undertaking to keep it to yourself until you have come to a conclusion about these things. He has a—an almost morbid dread of publicity which you’ll understand, I think, when you learn who he is.”
    The expert looked very steadily at Peregrine. After a considerable silence he said: “Very well. I am prepared to treat the matter confidentially as far as your principal’s name is concerned.”
    “He is Mr. Vassily Conducis.”
    “Good God.”
    “Quite,” said Peregrine, doing a Greenslade. “I shall now tell you as much as is known of the history. Here goes.”
    And he did in considerable detail.
    The expert listened in a startled manner.
    “Really, very odd,” he said when Peregrine had finished.
    “I assure you I’m not making it up.”
    “No, no. I’m sure. I’ve heard of Conducis, of course. Who hasn’t? You do realize what a—what a really flabbergasting thing this would be if it turned out to be genuine?”
    “I can think of nothing else. I mean: there they