‘I see! And will be sent on up the Persian Gulf, I suppose, by the boat that leaves on Wednesday.’
The spy nodded.
‘Where are they now?’
‘You said you knew!’
‘Quite so! I want confirmation!’
‘You can’t fool me like that!’
‘I am not trying to fool you! All I want is the exact place!’
The man looked at him earnestly for a minute or two, and then a sly expression crept over his face.
‘I do not know the exact address,’ he said, ‘but the agent who has them is in Simla somewhere.’
‘You’re telling lies!’ snapped Leonard sternly. ‘They are in Lahore and you know it!’ He bit his lip and looked at the other intensely. The spy became utterly confused, and made feeble efforts to pull himself together, but it was apparent that he was a beaten man. Brien, looking on in amazement, heard his friend murmur, ‘Thank Heaven!’
‘Come on, Brien!’ he said. ‘We’ll leave this fellow to his meditations. He has not a very rosy future to look forward to!’ And rising he took Billy’s arm, and walked with him to the door.
‘Just a minute!’ pleaded the spy in a strangled sort of voice. They turned. ‘I only tried to mislead you because I was worried about what the others might do if they found I had given them away. But you know so much that it does not seem to matter what I tell you!’
‘No – it doesn’t!’
‘Well, they are in Lahore!’
‘Yes, and will be taken from there by the Karachi mail on Monday night?’
‘Yes!’
‘By whom?’
‘That I cannot tell you!’
‘Are you quite certain?’
‘I swear it!’
‘And the address where the plans are at present hidden is?’
‘I dare not tell you!’
‘Is it Messrs. Ata Ullah, Lohari Mandi Street?’
‘My God! You’re a devil!’
‘Then it is?’
‘Yes!’ The spy closed his eyes as though utterly weary.
‘What was the name of the man who stole them?’
‘I don’t know!’
‘Do you know how they were stolen?’
‘I heard that Major Elliott was murdered, but how the plans were taken from him, and who took them, I swear I do not know.’
‘H’m! Well that will do, I think! You’ll be kept here for the present, so you have nothing to fear!’
Wallace walked to the door and opened it. Brien passed through; he followed him and, having locked and bolted the door again, set off hurriedly for his own rooms, with the mystified Billy close behind. Once in the sitting room he threw himself into an armchair, helped himself to a whisky and soda, and signed to Brien to do the same.
‘I’m just bubbling over with questions!’ said the latter, as he mixed himself what Americans call a high-ball.
‘For the Lord’s sake don’t ask them, Bill,’ replied Leonard, wearily filling his pipe.
‘Well, just one then! Was it all bluff, or do you really know something?’
‘A good deal was bluff, but I had formed a theory which events have almost substantiated. Tomorrow, in Simla, I am expecting that theory to be confirmed beyond all doubt. If it is not, then we shall be beaten!’
‘But you have information enough now to enable us to recover the plans!’
‘Quite so! But it is not the plans I am worrying about now so much as the copies that may have been made!’
‘By Jove, yes!’
They lapsed into silence. Presently Batty entered followed by the two bearers. The latter knelt down and each took off one of Wallace’s shoes, and replaced it with a slipper – the ex-sailor watching them approvingly the while. When they had finished and risen to their feet, he pointed to the door.
‘Jao – juldee,’ he commanded and the bearers departed. Then he turned to Wallace. ‘That’s ’Industani for ’op it quick, sir!’ he explained.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Re-enter Sanders
Nobody seeing Sir Leonard Wallace strolling round the aeroplane the following morning, in his neat grey suit and white topee, would have taken him for the head of that great organisation which spreads its tentacles to so many parts of the world, and which is Britain’s eyes and ears – the Secret Service – unless they had personal knowledge of that fact. He always gave the impression of being an idler, who loved to dally his way through life and found something to amuse him everywhere. He seldom, if ever, hurried and yet he was always on the spot; he gave decisions without hesitation, almost as though they were mechanical, yet behind his easy-going, happy-go-lucky exterior a wonderful brain directed his actions, and was hardly ever at rest – a brain which Muir described rightly as one of the most brilliant in England.
The responsibility of being the chief of what was perhaps the most important government department, would have turned most men white and hurried them to premature graves, but it never worried Wallace. No matter how intricate the situation, how desperate the position, he never turned a hair, and that was why worried statesmen stared at him in amazement when discussing international problems with him. The British Cabinet placed the utmost reliance in him, and his confidential department worked under his orders quietly, silently, never sleeping, always alert.
Few people know of the enormous staff employed by the Intelligence Department. Under Wallace were men and women in almost every civilised country in the world, and a great number of them owed their success as secret agents to his astuteness. From these people was derived the information which was used by Great Britain to combat foreign plots, and which enabled her to deal with the delicate situations which constantly arose. Then again was the office staff, consisting mainly of ex-officers of the Army and Navy, who dealt under Sir Leonard’s and Brien’s orders with the many documents relative to the intrigues of foreign governments and the juggling that continually goes on in the inner circle of international diplomacy. Major Brien’s chief duties concerned this side of the department, but, as ever, he and Wallace were almost inseparable, and whenever possible the latter took his great friend with him on what he called his ‘outdoor duties’. Billy had not the quick perception, the imagination and inventiveness that gave Leonard the wonderful faculty of following a thing through, as though he had been actually present, and he did not possess that unerring instinct where secret enquiries were necessary; but he had the same dogged determination, though Leonard’s was the determination of a terrier, and his the obstinacy of a bulldog, and like his great friend, once he had set his mind on a certain course, he kept grimly on and never deviated until the end was attained. He also was an expert on the routine work of the department, and Wallace left a lot of that responsibility upon his shoulders in consequence.
A most fascinating volume could be written dealing entirely with Wallace’s department; its many ramifications and activities, the night side of it, the postal department where correspondence which was suspected could be opened and copied; the hundreds of agents living in all parts of the world, ostensibly in some profession above any suspicion, but really as the Secret Service men and women of Great Britain; and the connection that exists between it and the Special Branch at New Scotland Yard; but this account deals only with Wallace’s adventures in India. He appeared to regard the loss of the plans as a very ordinary affair, though to Sir Henry Muir, and even to Billy Brien the problem of their disappearance seemed beyond explanation.
As Leonard strolled round the aeroplane admiring its lines and complimenting the two mechanics on the result of their cleaning and furbishing – for the machine shone in the early morning sun until the onlookers were compelled to turn away with watery eyes – Muir followed him round, hoping to get him to talk and thereby expound his theories, but all to no avail. Wallace appeared to be thinking of anything but the loss of the plans, and replied to Sir Henry’s questions in monosyllables, or with remarks on some totally different subject.
The Secretary had a great admir
ation for the head of the Secret Service and although very little information was ever permitted to leak out about the activities of that department, he had, owing to his position, heard of one or two of Leonard’s exploits which struck him as being almost incredible. It was, therefore, very disappointing to him to find himself prevented from attempting to follow the workings of Wallace’s mind, and at last he ceased to ask questions and indeed became a trifle irritable. Leonard immediately noticed this and smiled.
‘Billy!’ he called. ‘Come here! I’ve an object of curiosity to show you!’
Brien left Forsyth and Hallows with whom he had been chatting, and strolled across to them.
‘What’s the trouble?’ he asked.
‘Our little Henry is sulky, because I won’t answer his questions!’
‘Good Lord! Did you call me across just to tell me that?’
‘M’m! I thought you’d be interested and perhaps alarmed!’
‘Don’t worry about him, Muir!’ said Billy to the Secretary. ‘He’s like that! He won’t even answer my questions! Between you and me, he’s more puzzled than any of us, but he pretends he has a theory – it’s merely bluff!’
Wallace grinned cheerfully.
‘That’s it,’ he said. ‘Just bluff!’
‘Well, we’ve given you a needle to look for in a bottle of hay this time,’ said Sir Henry.
‘Yes, I must say you’ve found a pretty little problem for us to unravel!’
‘Absurd job to give anybody,’ grunted Billy, ‘and almost impossible after this lapse of time.’
‘Your tempers will be pretty well tried if you have much to do with Sanders!’ said Muir, who still appeared to rankle under a sense of injury.
‘Who’s Sanders?’ asked Wallace, then, ‘Oh, I know, the Deputy Commissioner at Simla?’
‘Yes! A very choleric old bird! When he heard you were coming out, he got annoyed and called you a picturesque, out-of-a-novel detective.’
Billy and Leonard laughed heartily.
‘I shall like that man,’ said the latter.
‘Are you ready, Sir Leonard?’ asked Forsyth, joining them.
‘Yes, quite!’ replied Wallace. ‘Now listen to me, Muir,’ he added seriously, and looking round to see that he was not overheard. ‘There’s another and very important job I want you to do, so consider yourself a Secret Service man for the time being!’
‘And the Lord help you if you make a mistake!’ put in Brien.
‘Dry up, Billy!’ said Wallace. ‘Don’t frighten the man! I want you to go straight to the Chief Commissioner of Police from here. Don’t wait to have breakfast first, and if he’s still in bed, pull him out. Tell him to give orders for a strong squad of men of the Special Branch or CID, to stand ready day and night in all the large cities to raid certain premises at a moment’s notice. I expect to put my hands on a list of addresses sooner or later, from where Russian Bolshevik propaganda work is carried out, and when I do, I’ll phone to him every address with orders to raid it at once. Do you understand?’
Sir Henry nodded, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
‘Tell him to get his orders through immediately as secretly as he can, and to have a reliable man always handy at the telephone.’
‘What am I to say if he wants to know all about it?’
‘Tell him to do what he’s told first, and ask questions afterwards!’ replied Leonard tersely. ‘And now, for goodness’ sake don’t bungle it!’
He made Muir repeat his instructions before he was satisfied, then:
‘Keep the whole thing absolutely secret, and see that he does too! All the big towns, mind, and as many of the small ones as he likes. Tell him not to spoil the ship for a ha’porth of tar. And when the raids are carried out nobody going in or coming out is to be allowed to escape, and all documents and every scrap of paper taken to police headquarters. He needn’t bother about Karachi – I’ve already arranged things there, and that is my special province. Now, cheerio, Muir, and be careful! Expect us back when you see us! We might come back tonight, and we might not be back for days!’
Sir Henry shook hands, and getting into his car drove away at once.
As the plane rose in the air, Billy turned to his companion with a grin.
‘Muir’s delighted with his job,’ he said. ‘He feels himself one of us now! By the way, why this thusness about the raiding squads?’
‘Because I hope to raid that place in Lahore during the next twenty-four hours, and we might find a list of addresses of other places there.’
‘Then you think there are more than Caxton’s three?’
‘Yes, rather! Don’t you?’
Billy nodded.
‘And I suppose you want it to be done quickly in case they are warned?’ he asked.
‘Exactly!’
It was not long before they sighted the hills, and in a couple of hours’ time they found themselves flying over towering masses which sometimes appeared to be only a few feet below them, and anon over beautifully wooded valleys that seemed to drop to an incredible depth. Some of the hills were covered with vegetation, others looked barren and ugly and as bare as the human hand. In the distance could be seen snow-clad peaks, gleaming brilliantly in the sunshine. They were among the Himalayas, that great range of mountains which boasts of the highest peak in the world.
Bungalows and houses appeared in view far below looking like tiny toy houses left about by a careless child. In some cases, where the bungalows were surrounded by well-kept gardens, the whole had the fascinating appearance of the popular Japanese garden decoration at one time found gracing the centres of so many tables in English and Continental homes.
The curious formation of some of the hills interested Wallace and Brien immensely. There were a few which looked like extinct volcanoes, others were almost grotesque in their shape, while one, spread below them, had the curious appearance of a giant’s face, with puckered eyebrows, thick lips, large hooked nose and closed eyes.
Presently Simla was in sight, and rows and rows of white houses could be seen spreading up the hillside, with here and there the sun glinting on a window and causing a bright shaft of light to shine in their eyes. The narrow, snake-like mountain railway was observed twisting its way upwards, and right ahead were the deeply wooded slopes of Jakko which is crowded with monkeys, and where the sightseer can watch a withered ancient priest feed them for the sum of a few annas, from the old Hindu temple on the pinnacle.
Neither Leonard nor Billy had been to Simla before, and though they had been stationed in India with their regiment previous to the outbreak of war, their only acquaintance with hill stations was with Ootacamund in the south and Darjeeling in Bengal.
Forsyth, who was piloting the machine, took no risks in landing. He circled round Viceregal Lodge and Summer Hill station several times before he eventually glided down and came to rest on the large sports ground known as Annandale.
As Wallace and Brien stepped down from the machine, a bored-looking man with a sandy moustache turning grey, and blue eyes that had a look of weariness in them, walked towards them. He gazed from one to the other, and then said:
‘I am Sanders, the Deputy Commissioner here!’
‘How do you do, Colonel!’ said Leonard heartily. ‘My name’s Wallace. This is Major Brien, my very capable second in command!’
The trio shook hands, Leonard languidly, Billy energetically and Sanders as though very bored at such a ceremony. For a second or two there was silence, and in that small space of time Wallace had formed a complete opinion of the Commissioner. That this opinion was favourable was evident from the smile with which he favoured the man who had met them.
‘I have just stepped out of a novel, Colonel Sanders,’ he said, with a twinkle in his eyes.
‘You’ve what, Sir Leonard?’ asked the other in surprise; then a look of understanding spread over his face and he actually blushed. ‘Do you mean to tell me,’ he blurted out, ‘that Sir Henry Muir repeated to you what I had
said?’
‘Yes; I think he was a little piqued with me at the time!’
‘Well, I’m not going to apologise, Sir Leonard, but—’
‘Apologise! Good gracious, no! I regard it as a compliment! I’ve stepped out of my novel to find the plans and restore them to the Government! You want the murderer of Elliott. I have a feeling we may do a lot together!’
The two steadily regarded each other, and then they both smiled, and in that moment a friendship was born which was destined to last.
‘I have some rickshas waiting here,’ announced Sanders.
‘Thanks,’ said Leonard, and called to Forsyth. ‘I think we’ll be ready to depart about two,’ he remarked, ‘so you’d better go and enjoy yourselves until then!’
‘Not much enjoyment in Simla now,’ grunted the Colonel.
‘Forsyth and Hallows will find it if there is any,’ said Brien, and Forsyth grinned. Batty came up and saluted respectfully.
‘Any orders, sir?’ he enquired.
‘No! Go and do anything you like until two,’ said Wallace, ‘but be here sharp at that hour. And don’t get into any scrapes in the Bazaar, or you might find yourself left behind in jail and coming up before Colonel Sanders tomorrow morning.’
Batty departed indignantly.
‘Now, do you want to visit Viceregal Lodge?’ enquired the Commissioner.
No, thanks! I’m not a bit interested in it. I want to see this famous rail motor and I should like a few words with your man Hartley.’
‘Right!’ replied Sanders. ‘We’ll go straight to the station, and we’ll probably find Hartley awaiting us there. I thought you’d want to speak to him, so I told him to go to the station, so that you could see the motor and interview him at the same time!’
‘Colonel,’ said Leonard, as he got into his ricksha, ‘you’re a man after my own heart!’
The Commissioner directed the coolies, and soon the trio were being hauled up the long steep slopes that led to the railway station. It was slow work and the laboured breathing of the men as they pulled his vehicle up some particularly steep incline moved Wallace to pity. At last they reached their destination, and he alighted gladly.
The Mystery of Tunnel 51 (Wallace of the Secret Service Series) Page 13
