Bat Wing

[Illustration: “When the woman raised her arms in a peculiar fashion, the shadow on the blind was remarkably like that of a bat”]

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I. PAUL HARLEY OF CHANCERY LANE II. THE VOODOO SWAMP III. THE VAMPIRE BAT IV. CRAY’S FOLLY V. VAL BEVERLEY VI. THE BARRIER VII. AT THE LAVENDER ARMS VIII. THE CALL OF M’KOMBO IX. OBEAH X. THE NIGHT WALKER XI. THE SHADOW ON THE BLIND XII. MORNING MISTS XIII. AT THE GUEST HOUSE XIV. YSOLA CAMBER XV. UNREST XVI. RED EVE XVII. NIGHT OF THE FULL MOON XVIII. INSPECTOR AYLESBURY OF MARKET HILTON XIX. COMPLICATIONS. XX. A SPANISH CIGARETTE XXI. THE WING OF A BAT XXII. COLIN CAMBER’S SECRET XXIII. INSPECTOR AYLESBURY CROSS-EXAMINES XXIV. AN OFFICIAL MOVE XXV. AYLESBURY’S THEORY XXVI. IN MADAME’S ROOM XXVII. AN INSPIRATION XXVIII. MY THEORY OF THE CRIME XXIX. A LEE-ENFIELD RIFLE XXX. THE SEVENTH YEW TREE XXXI. YSOLA CAMBER’S CONFESSION XXXII. PAUL HARLEY’S EXPERIMENT XXXIII. PAUL HARLEY’S EXPERIMENT CONCLUDED XXXIV. THE CREEPING SICKNESS XXXV. AN AFTERWORD

CHAPTER I

PAUL HARLEY OF CHANCERY LANE

Toward the hour of six on a hot summer’s evening Mr. Paul Harley was seated in his private office in Chancery Lane reading through a number of letters which Innes, his secretary, had placed before him for signature. Only one more remained to be passed, but it was a long, confidential report upon a certain matter, which Harley had prepared for His Majesty’s Principal Secretary of State for the Home Department. He glanced with a sigh of weariness at the little clock upon his table before commencing to read.

“Shall detain you only a few minutes, now, Knox,” he said.

I nodded, smiling. I was quite content to sit and watch my friend at work.

Paul Harley occupied a unique place in the maelstrom of vice and ambition which is sometimes called London life. Whilst at present he held no official post, some of the most momentous problems of British policy during the past five years, problems imperilling inter-state relationships and not infrequently threatening a renewal of the world war, had owed their solution to the peculiar genius of this man.

No clue to his profession appeared upon the plain brass plate attached to his door, and little did those who regarded Paul Harley merely as a successful private detective suspect that he was in the confidence of some who guided the destinies of the Empire. Paul Harley’s work in Constantinople during the feverish months preceding hostilities with Turkey, although unknown to the general public, had been of a most extraordinary nature. His recommendations were never adopted, unfortunately. Otherwise, the tragedy of the Dardanelles might have been averted.

His surroundings as he sat there, gaze bent upon the typewritten pages, were those of any other professional man. So it would have seemed to the casual observer. But perhaps there was a quality in the atmosphere of the office which would have told a more sensitive visitor that it was the apartment of no ordinary man of business. Whilst there were filing cabinets and bookshelves laden with works of reference, many of them legal, a large and handsome Burmese cabinet struck an unexpected note.