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Updated: May 9, 2025
"A dark, heavy fellow, was it?" "No. Rather a pale man, blond. A " Nikky checked himself. But Karl was all suavity. "So," he said, "while Niburg was unconscious the large man took the letter, which was sealed, magically opened it, extracted its contents, replaced them with this, and then sealed it again!" The King turned without haste to a drawer in his desk, and opened it. He was smiling.
"Left the shop!" Marie exclaimed. "And Peter Niburg he has left also? I never see him." "No," said Herman non-committally. "He is ill, perhaps?" "He is dead," said Herman, devouring her with his eyes. "Dead!" She put a hand to her plump side. "Aye. Shot as a spy." He took another piece of the excellent pigeon pie. Marie, meantime, lost all her looks, grew pasty white.
Then the Committee of Ten indeed knew everything had known that she would be away, had known of the window cleaners, had known of the safe, and her possession of the code. Cold and calculating rage filled her. Niburg had played her false, of course. But Niburg was only a go-between. He had known nothing of the codebook. He had given the Committee the letter, and by now they knew all that it told.
Peter Niburg made an inarticulate reference to a piece of silk of certain quality, and lay still. But his eyes opened slowly, and he stared up at the stars. "A fine night," he said thickly. "A very fine " Suddenly he raised himself to a sitting posture. Terror gave him strength. "I've been robbed," he said. "Robbed. I am ruined. I am dead." "Tut," said Nikky, mopping his cut lip.
He would have preferred to pursue his solitary if uncertain way. But Nikky was no half Samaritan. Toward Peter Niburg's lodging, then, they made a slow progress. "These recent gentlemen," said Nikky, as they rent along, "they are, perhaps, personal enemies?" "I do not know. I saw nothing." "One was very large, a giant of a man. Do you now such a man?" Peter Niburg reflected. He thought not.
He was another minute in locating himself. His cap lay in the gutter. Beside him, on his back, lay a sprawling and stertorous figure, with, so quick the downfall, a cane still hooked to his arm. Nikky bent over Peter Niburg. Bending over made his head ache abominably. "Here, man!" he said. "Get up! Rouse yourself!"
"Naturally, not a matter for publicity." "Very well," Nikky assented. But in his mind was rising, dark suspicion. He had stumbled on something. He cursed his stupidity that it meant, so far, nothing more than a mystery to him. He did not pride himself on his intelligence. "You were not alone, I think?" Peter Niburg suddenly remembered Herman, and stopped. "Your friend must have escaped."
As he stood panting, after he had rung the bell, Herman Spier could look across to that remote and unfashionable end of the great park where the people played on pleasant evenings, and where even now, on the heels of winter, the Scenic Railway made a pretense at summer. The sight recalled that other vision of Marie and Peter Niburg, snugly settled in a car, Marie a trifle pale and apprehensive.
But here Peter Niburg turned even paler. "Not not the police!" he stammered. "But why? You and I, my friend, will carry their insignia for some days. I have a mind to pay our debts." Peter Niburg considered. He stopped and faced Nikky. "I do not wish the police," he said. "Perhaps I have said too little. This is a private matter. An affair of jealousy." "I see!"
"If you are dead, your spirit speaks with an uncommonly lusty voice! Come, get up. We present together a shameful picture of defeat." But he raised Peter Niburg gently from the ground and, finding his knees unstable, from fright or weakness, stood him against a house wall. Peter Niburg, with rolling eyes, felt for his letter, and, the saints be praised, found it.
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