The Mystery of Tunnel 51 (Wallace of the Secret Service Series)

by Alexander Wilson

‘They must have got away in a boat,’ said the Commissioner. ‘Shall I send the police launch to search for them?’

  ‘No. I feel convinced that they are in that tunnel somewhere.’

  ‘But Batty was very definite about there being no hiding places.’

  ‘I know, but if he could walk right into that cave without being challenged, it is likely that they could walk past it, mount the ladder, and hide above somewhere.’

  ‘Great Scott! I’d better have the whole passage searched again then!’

  ‘It is not necessary, and besides you would never find them, they’re as slippery as eels. They want those plans, and while I have this dummy package on me, I feel convinced that they’ll hang round in the hope of getting it. The only thing to do now is to pretend to leave for Delhi, and bring them into the open for one last desperate attempt.’

  ‘But you are in danger while they think you have the plans on you.’

  ‘All the better – that’s the way we’ll eventually get them.’

  ‘Then Batty and I will have to watch you like hawks, Sir Leonard.’

  ‘Good! It is encouraging to add you to my bodyguard.’

  A telegram arrived from Delhi during the course of the afternoon announcing the safe arrival of Brien and the plans, much to the relief of both Leonard and the Commissioner.

  At four o’clock came an urgent telephone message from the police depot for Watkins, and he hurried away. Leonard called to Batty to give him a pipe, and was puffing away deep in thought, when a ragged-looking native came on to the veranda, and with many salaams handed him a letter. Opening it Leonard read the following:

  Dear Sir Leonard,

  I should be much obliged if you could come down to the old bus for a few minutes. I have an individual here who, as far as I can make out, says we are on his land, and wants to charge a fee. I can’t get rid of him. Perhaps the Commissioner will come with you and settle him. I am sorry to bother you.

  Yours respectfully,

  G. Hallows

  Wallace lay back on his chair and laughed.

  ‘Poor Hallows!’ he said. ‘Here, Batty, get out the Commissioner’s little two-seater. We’re going to take a run down to the aeroplane.’

  He gave the man who had brought the note a few annas. Batty drove the small car round to the front porch, and getting in Leonard was driven rapidly to the ground on which the aeroplane rested. Except for the machine the place had a deserted appearance.

  ‘I wish Hallows would not interview people of this sort in the saloon,’ murmured Leonard to himself, as he got out of the car, and walked across to the plane. Batty remained behind, sitting at the wheel with the air of an official of great importance – he rather fancied himself as a chauffeur.

  Leonard reached the machine, and pushed open the door of the saloon.

  ‘Well, Hallows,’ he said, entering, ‘what is the trouble?’

  The next moment a sickly-smelling cloth was wrapped round his nose and mouth, and he felt strong arms grasping him. He struggled fiercely, then feebly as the fumes of the chloroform overcame his senses, and presently sank to the floor unconscious.

  ‘Splendid!’ said the voice of Levinsky. ‘Now for the other!’

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  A Terrible Situation

  After he had waited for a quarter of an hour and there was no sign of Wallace returning, Batty began to feel rather bored. When half an hour had gone by and still his employer did not come, he became fidgety, and getting out of the car started to walk about. A few urchins watched him with great interest, as though he were a strange and legendary being they had heard about, but never expected to see. He tried to enter into conversation with them, but his efforts at Hindustani only made them stare the more and presently he gave it up in disgust and, leaning against the car, contemplated the aeroplane, anxiously waiting for the door of the saloon to open, and Wallace to appear. But nothing whatever happened, and it struck him as curious that there was no sign of life anywhere about the machine. At last he decided to go across and see if Wallace was likely to be delayed much longer. He reached the door of the saloon and pushed it gently open, but no sound reached him and, his curiosity by this time getting the better of him, he stepped inside. Immediately the door was snapped to behind him; he found himself contemplating three revolvers pointed steadily at his head, while the malignant eyes of Levinsky, Dorin and another man looked at him mockingly from behind them. Two other men stood by, and Batty suddenly realised that he was caught in a trap. With a heart full of foreboding he looked round and saw his master lying on the floor. For a moment Batty thought he was dead, and with a cry of agony he hurled himself upon Levinsky. The latter was taken by surprise; he fired, but his shot missed – and he went down before the bull-like rush of the sailor. He would have had very short shrift had not the others flung themselves on Batty and pulled him off. The latter fought like a tiger, and even the combined efforts of the five seemed at first doomed to failure; but numbers told, and at length they had him safely trussed up and gagged, and threw him into a corner like a sack of potatoes, where he lay impotently glaring hatred and murder at them.

  Levinsky contemplated him sardonically.

  ‘If I had known you were going to be so troublesome, my friend, I would have killed you off-hand; as it is, you are lucky to be alive.’

  ‘Why not shoot him, and have done with it?’ said Dorin.

  ‘No, we’ll reserve a better fate for him than that,’ said the other. ‘I think that we might take him and his master well up into the clouds, and as soon as we have secured the plans, drop them overboard. It will be a modern variation of the game of walking the plank – what do you say?’

  The other laughed, and one of them clapped Levinsky on the back.

  ‘You always were a man with a very pretty humour,’ he said.

  Levinsky shook his hand off, and spoke in a rapid, commanding manner in his own language.

  ‘We have already wasted too much time,’ he said. ‘And now the sooner we get away the better. Have you the letter for the Deputy Commissioner?’ he asked Dorin.

  The other nodded and handed it to him.

  ‘Georoff must take the car back, and hand this to the Commissioner’s servant – let us hope that he will not have returned yet, or there may be awkward questions asked, but it is hardly likely that he can have done so. Then, Georoff, you must get out of this country as soon as possible and return to Moscow; do you understand?’

  The man addressed as Georoff bowed his head in acquiescence. Levinsky handed him the letter.

  ‘Now go, and we will depart.’

  Georoff immediately left the saloon, and the chief of the spies turned to one of the others.

  ‘You have had a look around, and are sure that everything is in readiness, Alexieff?’

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘Everything depends upon your skill, and Polunin here knows enough about aeroplanes to be of use to you. So let us start at once.’

  Alexieff and Polunin immediately started the great propeller whirring, and in a few minutes the aeroplane rose from the ground and Karachi was left behind.

  Lying helpless in his corner, Batty felt the vibrations of the machine and gave himself up for lost. He forced himself into a more comfortable position and looked about him. Wallace was lying face downwards and looked as though he were a dead man; but after watching intently for some minutes, Batty noticed that he was breathing and a sob of thankfulness rose in his throat. On the other side of the saloon Hallows and Woodhouse were laying together, both breathing stertorously after the fashion of drugged men. Batty, if he could, would have ground his teeth together with rage, to think that after all Wallace’s endeavours his efforts should end like this.

  After watching him for some time Levinsky stooped and removed the gag.

  ‘You can shout and call as much as you like up here, my friend, and nobody will hear you. What do you think of my other three captives? Their attitudes suggest that they don’t care where they a
re. But what an unpleasant surprise Sir Leonard Wallace will experience when he realises that after all he has lost the game and I have won!’

  ‘You swine!’ roared Batty. ‘You damnable swine! If I could only lay me ’ands on yer, you’d never know ’ow yer died.’

  ‘Just so, but I have no intention of permitting you to lay your hands on me.’

  ‘Yer needn’t think you’ve won yet, ’cos you ’aven’t, an’ you’ll ’ave the whole bloomin’ Air Force sailing on yer tail afore long.’

  ‘Brave words, my lad, but quite unconvincing. I have taken precautions to prevent such a thing happening, at least for several days, and by that time we will be safely away, and the vultures will have cleaned you and your master’s bones, and left two very respectable skeletons to testify that it is dangerous to try conclusions with me.’

  ‘Belay!’ said the sailor. ‘You make me fair sick. You’ll grin t’other side o’ your face afore long.’

  ‘You are impertinent, my man!’ and Levinsky savagely kicked him.

  ‘What about bringing the others to their senses?’ queried Dorin.

  ‘Oh, let them lie. They’ll come round by themselves before long.’

  He proved to be correct, for presently Hallows began to stir. Levinsky and Dorin tied his hands behind his back, and did the same to the other two. After a few minutes the airman opened his eyes and looked about him.

  ‘Where the deuce am I, and what has happened?’ he asked. Then he caught sight of his companions, and looked at Batty wonderingly. At the same time he became aware that his hands were tied behind him.

  ‘What am I tied up like this for?’ he demanded.

  Levinsky laughed.

  ‘We thought it safer,’ he said. ‘You notice that all your friends are treated alike. As a matter of fact we are taking you for a little trip in your own machine.’

  ‘Good God! Do you mean to say—’

  ‘I mean to say that the tables are completely turned on Sir Leonard Wallace, and that you are my prisoners.’

  Hallows whistled.

  ‘What are you going to do with us?’ he demanded.

  ‘You will know in good time – at present it were best if you behaved reasonably and philosophically.’

  ‘’E says ’e is goin’ ter chuck us out of the aeroplane,’ said Batty.

  ‘What? You fiend!’ exclaimed Hallows.

  ‘That is the fate I reserve for Sir Leonard Wallace and his servant. I may have other plans with regard to you.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I may offer you service in the Air Force of the Soviet. There are vacancies for a few good pilots, and if you behave yourself you may be offered one of them.’

  Hallows laughed.

  ‘You’re very kind,’ he said mockingly.

  During this conversation Woodhouse had recovered his senses, and had listened in a dazed, uncomprehending sort of manner. Now he glanced across at Batty.

  ‘Hullo!’ he said. ‘We seem to be in a hell of a mess!’

  ‘You’ve said it, mate,’ said Batty; ‘but it won’t be for long. You just wait until Sir Leonard comes to and starts to think a bit.’

  Dorin smiled cruelly.

  ‘Sir Leonard Wallace’s thinking days are nearly over,’ he said.

  Batty looked at him fixedly.

  ‘Blow me!’ he said, ‘but I’ve got a feelin’ that your thinkin’ days are just beginnin’!’

  It was some time later before Leonard recovered consciousness and, as with the others, some minutes after that before he realised the position he was in. He looked very weak and ill, but he smiled from between the bandages that enveloped his head and face.

  ‘So I have walked into the trap like a young innocent!’ he remarked. ‘It was a clever touch your suggesting in your letter that I should bring the Commissioner along with me, and you made a good guess in thinking that I did not know Hallows’ writing. I must be getting into my dotage, but in extenuation of myself I must admit that I never thought you would have the daring to capture the aeroplane in broad daylight. I apparently did not know my Levinsky as well as I thought.’

  ‘You do not know him at all,’ said the Russian. ‘During the short while that remains to you of life I hope you will discover a little!’

  ‘No doubt I shall. But, if it is not boring you, I should be glad to hear how you got the better of Mr Hallows and Woodhouse.’

  ‘That was a simple matter, just as everything was simple, except perhaps the capture of your man.’

  ‘Good old Batty!’ said Wallace, and smiled at the sailor. ‘But how did they take you?’ he asked.

  ‘Came along to see wot ’ad ’appened to you, sir,’ said Batty, ‘and walked into the five of them.’

  ‘So there are five!’

  ‘Not now, sir — one o’ them was left be’ind to take the car back.’

  ‘And now there are four. It reminds me of the ten little nigger boys. But, pardon me,’ he went on to Levinsky, ‘you were going to tell me how you took the plane!’

  There was a dangerous glint in Levinsky’s eyes. He resented Wallace’s levity – he had expected him to be overcome with despair, and perhaps fear, when he found out the terrible situation he was in. Instead of which he treated the whole matter almost as a joke. The Russian looked at him savagely.

  ‘You will soon find this is no laughing matter!’ he said.

  ‘No, I expect not; but you haven’t told me what I asked yet!’

  ‘Two of my friends came along and, finding Mr Hallows and the other at work, introduced themselves as British officers, and during the course of conversation offered each a cigarette.’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘The cigarettes were drugged!’

  ‘I see! But you must have been very desperate to have taken such a risk – out in the open, too!

  ‘Desperate ills require desperate remedies,’ said Dorin.

  ‘Don’t be sententious, Dorin,’ said Leonard. ‘And now, where are you taking us, and why?’

  ‘We shall eventually reach Russia,’ said Levinsky, ‘but you will be dropped over the side. Your unfortunate habit of interfering must be stopped once and for all, and the only way to do that is to kill you. Therefore I much regret that you will end your days in a short space of time. Have you any last requests to make?’

  ‘Don’t be more of a hypocrite than you can help, Levinsky. If you are going to drop me over, get on with it. It is the sort of thing that would appeal to you and Dorin. You certainly were both born to dangle at the end of a rope! I am sorry I shall not be there to see you dangle.’

  Levinsky kicked him in the side with savage force. Batty roared with anger, but Wallace merely smiled.

  ‘I wish I could find a word expressive enough to describe you,’ he said. ‘Cur and cad are much too good!’

  This time Dorin kicked him.

  ‘All right, Dorin,’ said Leonard, ‘you need not be jealous. Whatever I have said to Levinsky equally applies to you.’

  ‘Let us take the plans from him, and get it over!’ snapped Dorin to Levinsky, and the latter nodded.

  With rough hands they commenced to search, and Dorin tore the bandage from his arm. Leonard gritted his teeth with the pain, but still smiled.

  ‘You won’t find them there,’ he said.

  Levinsky found the packet in his pocket and gave a cry of triumph.

  ‘So, Sir Leonard Wallace, you lose your plans and also your life. You must wish now that you had never left England.’

  ‘Not in the least,’ replied Leonard. ‘The plans don’t worry me at all.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Open that package, and see for yourself!’

  A look of dawning doubt came into the two Russians’ faces. Levinsky tore the envelope open and took out the contents. When he and Dorin saw that they were nothing but plain sheets of paper their rage was terrible to behold. Frantically they searched the prone man before them, tearing his clothes and pulling his bandages off with such force that they tore the flesh
off with them. Then finding nothing, they kicked him until they tired. Batty, Hallows, and Woodhouse struggled to free themselves from their bonds to go to Wallace’s aid, but in vain, and the sailor swore and sobbed in turn, as he watched the fiendish cruelty of the two Russians. At last they ceased kicking and belabouring him, and he lay a bleeding, bedraggled object, horrible to behold, but not a groan came from him, and even in his agony he smiled.

  ‘You fools,’ he gasped. ‘Major Brien delivered the plans and your photographic copies to the Viceroy this morning. You will find the telegram assuring me of that fact among the letters you have taken from my pockets.’ And he fainted.

  Levinsky sat down trembling with rage, while Dorin stood with his hands tightly clenched, grinding his teeth. Presently the former spoke in Russian.

  ‘What fools we were to think that the other was burnt too badly to leave his bed. While we were doing nothing the plans were on their way to Delhi.’ He raised his arms and cursed for several minutes.

  ‘Well, we’ve lost them now,’ said Dorin, ‘so let us throw him out and make for Russia.’

  ‘Not while he is unconscious,’ said the other. ‘Let him walk out with all his faculties about him, so that he will suffer the more.’

  He looked through the letters and papers they had found in Leonard’s pockets; among them was a cablegram which he read two or three times.

  ‘This is from his wife,’ he said to Dorin. ‘She is on her way out to join him!’

  ‘Well, what does that matter to us? She won’t see him.’

  ‘No, but it is interesting to know that she is travelling all that way to hear that her husband is dead.’

  ‘When was that sent?’

  ‘On the eighteenth, from Marseilles. That means that she is somewhere in the Red Sea by now. She mentions the yacht, so that must be his father’s yacht – the Greyhound, isn’t it?’

  ‘I don’t know, and it is not a matter that interests me!’

  Levinsky crushed up the cablegram, and put it into his pocket.

  ‘I wish I could think of a death that would make the Englishman suffer more than by merely falling from an aeroplane,’ he said.