The Door with Seven Locks quotes

Dick Martin grinned at the sneer. He wanted very little persuasion to withdraw his resignation; already he was repenting—and, despite the attraction of authorship which beckoned ahead, he would have given a lot of money to recall the letter he had sent to the commissioner.

“It’s a queer thing how money ruins a man,” said Captain Sneed sadly.

“Now if I had a six-figure legacy I should want to do nothing.”

I hate reminding you that you’re a paltry sub-inspector and that I’m as near being a superintendent as makes no difference. It would sound snobbish. I’m not lazy, I’m lethargic. It’s a sort of disease.”

“You’re fat because you’re lazy, and you’re lazy because you’re fat,”

insisted the lean-faced young man. “It’s a sort of vicious circle. Besides, you’re rich enough to retire if you wanted.”

“Why on earth should I remember his name, my good girl?” asked Dick a little irritably.

“Why on earth shouldn’t you, my good man?”

she demanded coolly, and at that moment Dick Martin was aware of her, in the sense that she emerged from the background against which his life moved and became a personality.

“I beg your pardon!” he laughed. “As a matter of fact”—he had a trick of confidence which could be very deceptive—“I’m not at all interested in this infernal robbery. I’m leaving the police force tomorrow.”

“There will be great joy amongst the criminal classes,” she said politely, and when he saw the light of laughter in her eyes, his heart went out to her.

“You have a sense of humour,” he smiled.

For a second she surveyed him gravely, her red lips pursed.

“And you’re a detective?” she said, in a hushed voice. “One of those almost human beings who protect us while we sleep!”

He was helpless with laughter.

Lew looked round the room, out of the window, everywhere except at Dick. Then:

“I was trying to open a dead man’s tomb!” he said in a low voice.

“You saw it on the receipt, of course?”

“It was returned to the library through the Dead Letter Office!” she went on ruthlessly.

“I never knew a human being who could make a man feel quite as big a fool as you,” he protested, laughing. “I mean, as you make me feel,” he corrected hastily.

“Call yourself a detective, eh?” he demanded of his reflection, as his lips curled.

“You poor, four-flushing mutt!”

He spent the remainder of the day learning a new card trick that he had picked up on the voyage over;

“But it was never out of my sight,” gasped the girl.

“The art of ringing changes is to keep everything in sight.”

“But it is impossible,” said Sybil.

Sneed was lighting his cigar with slow, noisy puffs.

“Rearranging the human race,” he said.

“A little thing like that?” said Dick sardonically.

It differed, too, in another respect, as Dick was to discover. Mr. Havelock turned to him and held up the lantern, that the visitor might better see.

“Here is what Miss Lansdown wishes you to see,” he said slowly. “The door with the seven locks!”

Dick stared at the door. There they were, one under the other. Seven circular bosses on the door, each with its long key slit.

Cawler did not immediately answer, and when he did he prefaced his words with a little chuckle.

“She made good and I made bad,” he said. “Not to tell you a lie, miss, I’ve been in prison sixteen times, mainly for hooking.”

“That’s right,” he said, in no sense abashed. “I’m a natural-born thief. Motorcars mostly. I’ve taken more cars from racetracks than you’ll ever own, young lady.

“Have you any friends staying with you?” asked Dick the moment he was inside the door.

“Me, sir?” said he man in surprise. “No,” and with unconscious humour, “only my wife. And you’d hardly call her a friend.”

“No, sir,” said the caretaker. “Wait a minute; I’ll get a light.”

“Why do you say that? Mr. Havelock has told you?”

“Men will say things to women that they will never confess to men,” she said.

“Do you know that Mr. Havelock believes that Lord Selford is entirely under Stalletti’s influence? And, what is more, he thinks that—but he will tell you himself. Do you know why we are staying at Selford Manor.”

“But this is amazing!” he said in astonishment. “There was nothing in the newspapers about his having been asked to pick a lock—of course, it was the lock of the Selford tomb!”

“The information that doesn’t come out at inquests would fill Miss Lansdown’s library,” said Sneed.

“Maybe it will all come out some day.”