Fire-Tongue

Sax Rohmer

Description

Detective Paul Harley investigates cases that go beyond your standard-issue crimes and misdemeanors -- his inquiries often veer into the realm of the supernatural. In the novel Fire-Tongue, Harley finds himself up against a shadowy secret society that will stop at nothing to achieve world domination. Will he be able to thwart their nefarious plot before it's too late?

Informations

• Publié par: The Floating Press
• Date de parution: 01 juillet 2012
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781775459170
• Langue: English

Extrait

FIRE-TONGUE
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SAX ROHMER
 
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Fire-Tongue First published in 1921 ISBN 978-1-77545-917-0 © 2012 The Floating Press and its licensors. All rights reserved. While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
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Chapter I - A Client for Paul Harley Chapter II - The Sixth Sense Chapter III - Shadows Chapter IV - Introducing Mr. Nicol Brinn Chapter V - The Gates of Hell Chapter VI - Phil Abingdon Arrives Chapter VII - Confessions Chapter VIII - A Wreath of Hyacinths Chapter IX - Two Reports Chapter X - His Excellency Ormuz Khan Chapter XI - The Purple Stain Chapter XII - The Veil is Raised Chapter XIII - Nicol Brinn Has a Visitor Chapter XIV - Wessex Gets Busy Chapter XV - Naida Chapter XVI - Nicol Brinn Goes Out Chapter XVII - What Happened to Harley Chapter XVIII - What Happened to Harley (Continued) Chapter XIX - What Happened to Harley (Concluded) Chapter XX - Conflicting Clubs Chapter XXI - The Seventh Kama Chapter XXII - Fire-Tongue Speaks Chapter XXIII - Phil Abingdon's Visitor Chapter XXIV - The Screen of Gold Chapter XXV - An Englishman's Honour Chapter XXVI - The Orchid of Sleep Chapter XXVII - At Hillside Chapter XXVIII - The Chase Chapter XXIX - The Catastrophe Chapter XXX - Nicol Brinn's Story of the City of Fire Chapter XXXI - Story of the City of Fire (Continued) Chapter XXXII - Story of the City of Fire (Continued) Chapter XXXIII - Story of the City of Fire (Continued) Chapter XXXIV - Nicol Brinn's Story (Concluded)
Chapter I - A Client for Paul Harley
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Some of Paul Harley's most interesting cases were brought to his noticein an almost accidental way. Although he closed his office in ChanceryLane sharply at the hour of six, the hour of six by no means marked theend of his business day. His work was practically ceaseless. But even intimes of leisure, at the club or theatre, fate would sometimes cast inhis path the first slender thread which was ultimately to lead him intosome unsuspected labyrinth, perhaps in the underworld of London, perhapsin a city of the Far East.
His investigation of the case of the man with the shaven skull affordedan instance of this, and even more notable was his first meeting withMajor Jack Ragstaff of the Cavalry Club, a meeting which took placeafter the office had been closed, but which led to the unmasking ofperhaps the most cunning murderer in the annals of crime.
One summer's evening when the little clock upon his table was rapidlyapproaching the much-desired hour, Harley lay back in his chair andstared meditatively across his private office in the direction of alarge and very handsome Burmese cabinet, which seemed strangely out ofplace amid the filing drawers, bookshelves, and other usual impedimentaof a professional man. A peculiarly uninteresting week was drawing toa close, and he was wondering if this betokened a decreased activity inthe higher criminal circles, or whether it was merely one of those usualquiescent periods which characterize every form of warfare.
Paul Harley, although the fact was unknown to the general public,occupied something of the position of an unofficial field marshal of theforces arrayed against evildoers. Throughout the war he had undertakenconfidential work of the highest importance, especially in regard tothe Near East, with which he was intimately acquainted. A member ofthe English bar, and the last court of appeal to which Home Office andForeign Office alike came in troubled times, the brass plate upon thedoor of his unassuming premises in Chancery Lane conveyed little ornothing to the uninitiated.
The man himself, with his tropical bronze and air of eager vitality,must have told the most careless observer that he stood in the presenceof an extraordinary personality. He was slightly gray at the temples inthese days, but young in mind and body, physically fit, and possessedof an intellectual keenness which had forced recognition from twohemispheres. His office was part of an old city residence, and hischambers adjoined his workroom, so that now, noting that his table clockregistered the hour of six, he pressed a bell which summoned Innes, hisconfidential secretary.
"Well, Innes," said Harley, looking around, "another uneventful day."
"Very uneventful, Mr. Harley. About a month of this and you will have toresume practice at the bar."
Paul Harley laughed.
"Not a bit likely, Innes," he replied. "No more briefs for me. I shallretire to Norfolk and devote my declining years to fishing."
"I don't know that fishing would entirely satisfy me," said Innes.
"It would more than satisfy me," returned Harley. "But every man to hisown ambition. Well, there is no occasion to wait; you might as well getalong. But what's that you've got in your hand?"
"Well," replied Innes, laying a card upon the table, "I was just comingin with it when you rang."
Paul Harley glanced at the card.
"Sir Charles Abingdon," he read aloud, staring reflectively at hissecretary. "That is the osteologist?"
"Yes," answered Innes, "but I fancy he has retired from practice."
"Ah," murmured Harley, "I wonder what he wants. I suppose I had bettersee him, as I fancy that he and I met casually some years ago in India.Ask him to come in, will you?"
Innes retiring, there presently entered a distinguished-looking, elderlygentleman upon whose florid face rested an expression not unlike that ofembarrassment.
"Mr. Harley," he began, "I feel somewhat ill at ease in encroachingupon your time, for I am by no means sure that my case comes within yourparticular province."
"Sit down, Sir Charles," said Harley with quiet geniality. "Officially,my working day is ended; but if nothing comes of your visit beyond achat it will have been very welcome. Calcutta, was it not, where we lastmet?"
"It was," replied Sir Charles, placing his hat and cane upon the tableand sitting down rather wearily in a big leather armchair which Harleyhad pushed forward. "If I presume upon so slight an acquaintance, I amsorry, but I must confess that only the fact of having met you sociallyencouraged me to make this visit."
He raised his eyes to Harley's face and gazed at him with thatpeculiarly searching look which belongs to members of his profession;but mingled with it was an expression of almost pathetic appeal, ofappeal for understanding, for sympathy of some kind.
"Go on, Sir Charles," said Harley. He pushed forward a box of cigars."Will you smoke?"
"Thanks, no," was the answer.
Sir Charles evidently was oppressed by some secret trouble, thus Harleymused silently, as, taking out a tin of tobacco from a cabinet besidehim, he began in leisurely manner to load a briar. In this he desiredto convey that he treated the visit as that of a friend, and also,since business was over, that Sir Charles might without scruple speak atlength and at leisure of whatever matters had brought him there.
"Very well, then," began the surgeon; "I am painfully conscious thatthe facts which I am in a position to lay before you are very scanty andunsatisfactory."
Paul Harley nodded encouragingly.
"If this were not so," he explained, "you would have no occasionto apply to me, Sir Charles. It is my business to look for facts.Naturally, I do not expect my clients to supply them."
Sir Charles slowly nodded his head, and seemed in some measure torecover confidence.
"Briefly, then," he said, "I believe my life is in danger."
"You mean that there is someone who desires your death?"
"I do."
"H'm," said Harley, replacing the tin in the cupboard and strikinga match. "Even if the facts are scanty, no doubt you have fairlysubstantial grounds for such a suspicion?"
"I cannot say that they are substantial, Mr. Harley. They are rathermore circumstantial. Frankly, I have forced myself to come here, and nowthat I have intruded upon your privacy, I realize my difficulties morekeenly than ever."
The expression of embarrassment upon the speaker's face had grownintense; and now he paused, bending forward in his chair. He seemed inhis glance to appeal for patience on the part of his hearer, and Harley,lighting his pipe, nodded in understanding fashion. He was the last manin the world to jump to conclusions. He had learned by bitter experiencethat lightly to dismiss such cases as this of Sir Charles as comingwithin the province of delusion, was sometimes tantamount to refusingaid to a man in deadly peril.
"You are naturally anxious for the particulars," Sir Charles presentlyresumed. "They bear, I regret to say, a close resemblance to thesymptoms of a well-known form of hallucination. In short, with oneexception, they may practically all be classed under the head ofsurveillance."
"Surveillance," said Paul Harley. "You mean that you are more or lessconstantly followed?"
"I do."
"And what is your impression of this follower?"
"A very hazy one. To-night, as I came to your office, I have everyreason to believe that someone followed me in a taxicab."
"You came in a car?"
"I did."
"And a cab followed you the whole way?"
"Practically the whole way, except that as my chauffeur turned intoChancery Lane, the cab stopped at the corner of Fleet Street."
"Your idea is that your pursuer followed on foot from this point?"
"Such was my impression."
"H'm, quite impossible. And is this sort of thing constant, SirCharles?"
"It has been for some time past."
"Anything else?"
"One very notable thing, Mr. Harley. I was actually assaulted less thana week ago within sight of my own house."
"Indeed! Tell me of this." Paul Harley became aware of an awake