The Crooked House

The Crooked House, by Brandon Fleming

The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Crooked House, by Brandon Fleming
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org

Title: The Crooked House
Author: Brandon Fleming

Release Date: September 30, 2007 [eBook #22820]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CROOKED HOUSE***
E-text prepared by D. Alexander and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from digital material generously made available by Internet Archive/American Libraries (http://www.archive.org/details/americana)

Note: Images of the original pages are available through Internet Archive/American Libraries. See http://www.archive.org/details/crookedhouse00flemiala

THE CROOKED HOUSE
by
BRANDON FLEMING

New York Edward J. Clode
Copyright, 1921, by Edward J. Clode Printed in the United States of America

CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I A STRANGE RIDDLE 9
II THE CROOKED HOUSE 19
III THE ENDLESS GARDEN 33
IV DESTRUCTION 45
V COPPLESTONE 53
VI THE TRAIL OF CORPSES 65
VII TRANTER 71
VIII MRS. ASTLEY-ROLFE 80
IX THE DANSEUSE 83
X MR. GLUCKSTEIN 85
XI THE CLERGYMAN 87
XII MR. BOLSOVER 89
XIII THE TRINITY OF DEATH 92
XIV WITHOUT TRACE 105
XV A BUILDER OF MEN 117
XVI A TRIPLE ALLIANCE 133
XVII MR. GLUCKSTEIN IN CONFIDENCE 142
XVIII THE WIT OF THE PINK LADY 151
XIX DETAINED ON SUSPICION 159
XX THE BIRTH OF THE KILLER 176
XXI A HASTY FLIGHT 187
XXII TRANTER ATTACKS THE CROOKED HOUSE 195
XXIII A DUEL 203
XXIV THE SECRET OF THE HOUSE 220
XXV TRUER COLORS 233
XXVI PROVIDING FOR THE WORST 241
XXVII THE DISAPPEARANCE OF TRANTER 250
XXVIII IN PURSUIT 259
XXIX ETHICS OF KILLING 262
XXX MONSIEUR DUPONT'S TASK 273
XXXI WHAT THEY HEARD 279
XXXII THE BEAUTY-KILLER 288
XXXIII LAST TRUTHS 291
XXXIV CONCLUSION 312

THE CROOKED HOUSE
CHAPTER I
A STRANGE RIDDLE
"Monsieur Tranter! A moment!"
The Right-Honorable John Tranter swung round, latch-key in hand. Behind him, an enormous figure emerged, with surprisingly agile and noiseless steps, from the shadow of the adjoining house--a figure almost grotesque and monstrous in the dim light of the street lamp. The very hugeness of the apparition was so disconcerting that John Tranter drew back with a startled exclamation.
"Good Lord! Monsieur Dupont? You in London?"
Monsieur Dupont described circles with his country's largest silk hat.
"I in London! An event, my friend, in the history of your city!"
He laughed softly, and replaced the hat on his head. They shook hands warmly.
"This is a delightful surprise," Tranter said, turning back to the door. "Come in."
"It is late," Monsieur Dupont apologized--"but I entreat a moment. It is three hours only since I arrived, and I have passed one of them on your doorstep."
"An hour?" Tranter exclaimed. "But surely----"
Monsieur Dupont squeezed himself into the narrow hall with difficulty.
"I possess the gift of patience," he claimed modestly. "In London it is of great value."
In the small library he looked about him with surprise. The plain, almost scanty furniture of Tranter's house evidently did not accord with his expectations of the residence of an English Privy Councillor. Monsieur Dupont sat down on a well-worn leather couch, and stared, somewhat blankly, at the rows of dull, monotonous bindings in the simple mahogany bookcases.
He placed the drink Tranter mixed for him on a small table by his side, accepted a cigar, and puffed at it serenely. And in that position, Monsieur Victorien Dupont presented a pleasing picture of elephantine geniality. He was so large that his presence seemed to fill half the room. His great face was one tremendous smile. His eyes, though capable of a disconcertingly direct gaze, were clear and even childlike. His English was perfect, his evening-dress faultless, and, though obviously a bon-viveur, he was also unmistakably a man with a purpose.
"And what has brought you to London?" Tranter asked, sitting opposite to him.
"My friend," said Monsieur Dupont, "I am here with a remarkable object. I have come to use the eyes the good God has given me. And to do so I beg the assistance of the great position the good God has given you."
"I hope," Tranter returned, "that what you require will enable me to make some sort of return to the man who saved my life."
Monsieur Dupont waved his hands in a gigantic gesture.
"To restore to the world one of its great men--it was a privilege for which I, myself, should pay! The service I ask of you is small."
"You have but to name it," said the Privy Councillor.
* * * * *
Suddenly there was no smile on Monsieur Dupont's face. Without the smile it was a very much less pleasant face.
"Two years ago, in my own country," his voice acquired a new snap, "some one asked me a riddle."
"A riddle?" Tranter echoed, surprised at the change.
"A very strange riddle. Unfortunately, I cannot tell you what it was. I cannot tell any one what it was. I undertook to find the answer. From France the riddle took me far away to another country--and there, after a