Wallace smiled down at her.
‘We can only thank God that it was possible for you to be rescued, Thalia,’ he remarked quietly. ‘Raymond is in an admirable position to tell you all he feels about you. But, speaking for Hugh and myself, I can say very sincerely – I know he feels the same – that we are honoured to possess the friendship of a very gallant and noble lady.’
Abruptly she turned away her head. Great tears had welled suddenly into her eyes. She strove to keep them back, but her emotion was too powerful to allow her to suppress them.
‘I am so weak and foolish. I want to weep like the great baby. It is because – oh, I cannot say it. What is the use to try? It is not possible to tell you what this wonderful kindness means to me.’
A sob broke from her, and the three men tactfully entered into conversation with each other. In reply to the anxious enquiries of the other two, Hill told them that the burns Thalia had suffered on her arm and one of her legs were not serious. Her back had been hurt in the fall on to the beam, but, apart from being badly bruised, was not damaged severely. The doctor had declared that two or three days’ complete rest would put her right again. Hill made light of his own injuries, but it transpired that the side of his head and ear had been badly scorched, while two fingers of the hand had been burnt practically to the bone. While they were talking, Wallace noticed a trickle of blood running slowly down one of Shannon’s wrists.
‘What’s that?’ he asked sharply.
‘Nothing much, sir,’ responded the other. ‘One of those blessed wounds has opened again, I think; that’s all.’
Sir Leonard insisted on his removing his jacket, and he reluctantly obeyed. Both shirt sleeves and the bandages under them were soaked with blood. Not one, but three at least of the wounds had been torn open. Wallace was about to go in search of the doctor in order to have them dressed, but Hugh begged him to wait.
‘There is so much to do, sir,’ he declared. ‘These can be attended to later on. It seems to me we’ve got to start more or less all over again. By this time, the blighters are escaping from us, and, with that virus still in their possession, God only knows what will happen.’
‘It isn’t in their possession,’ replied Sir Leonard with a smile, ‘but you’re right, we must prevent them from getting away, if possible. It is pretty certain that they witnessed our escape from the burning building. Of one thing we can be sure: the man we want most – Kyprianos – will not go until he can regain possession of his infernal cultures.’
Shannon and Hill asked eagerly where the case was containing the fatal bottles. Thalia, who had, by then, completely recovered from the emotion that had overcome her, listened as earnestly as the others to Sir Leonard’s story. He told first of his encounter with Kyprianos, and the manner in which the latter had obtained the upper hand.
‘While I was searching the hall with my torch,’ he related, ‘he must have dodged me, and returned up the stairs. I thought he had gone out. I am afraid I did not think a great deal of my chances, when he flung himself on me with that hypodermic syringe in his hand.’
‘But how was it you escaped the poison he said he had put into you?’ asked Thalia. ‘I heard him tell the others that, into the mysterious third man, he injected – I think it was aconitine.’
‘Well,’ replied Sir Leonard drily, ‘aconitine hasn’t much effect if injected into an artificial arm, you know.’ He did not add that it was his presence of mind alone that had prompted him to place the artificial arm in the right position. ‘That reminds me, a piece of the needle must still be there – it broke. I will have a look later on.’
The three stared at him for a moment; then the humour of the mistake made by Kyprianos struck them, and they laughed. Wallace described his search of the flat rented by Bikelas and the discovery of Thalia’s letter, which he handed to Hill. She had already told them what was in it, of course, but her lover insisted on keeping it; putting it away in a pocket. Sir Leonard then went on to tell of his entrance into Bruno’s flat and the conversation he had heard there. He blamed himself very much for not investigating the smell of burning that had reached him.
‘I thought it came from outside,’ he explained. ‘It certainly never occurred to me that it was anything serious, until the cry of fire and the pounding on the door of Bruno’s suite. I can understand how it was your shouts for help were not heard. There was a regular stampede from above. When you were calling out, everybody had escaped down to the hall and away.’
He related that Bruno and his wife had run from their room in frantic alarm. They were both too terrified to question him concerning his presence in their flat. He had placed himself with his back to the entrance door, and refused to allow Bruno to pass until told where the case was containing the virus, for he had heard the Italian mention to his wife that it was still in the house. Bruno was far too frightened to refuse. He had confessed immediately that it had been placed in a car in a garage close to the fire escape down which it had been carried; the intention being to convey it elsewhere in the morning. The car belonged to Bruno, and he had handed over the key to the scientist, or rather thought he had. He found afterwards that he had given him the wrong one after the door had been locked.
‘By his own mad act, Kyprianos has probably destroyed completely his own creation,’ concluded Sir Leonard. ‘I let Bruno out, and went to have a look at the garage to see if any attempt had been made to break in, though I did not know then that there was any reason for it. The door was quite intact, and, by that time, quite a lot of people had gathered, in addition to those who had escaped from the fire. It was not likely that any attempt would be made on the garage with such a crowd about. I ran into Tempest, as I returned to the front of the house. He told me he had been anxious about us when the fire started. Naturally, it had not occurred to me that you were shut in. But his remarks made me wonder where you were. Something, I reflected, might have happened to you, though I couldn’t see quite what it could be. However, I told Tempest to keep his eye on the garage. You know the rest.’
He did not mention that on ascending the stairs he had met a barrage of fire near the top of the second flight, and had been compelled to fight his way through. Shannon briefly told him what had taken place, laying particular stress on the gallant attempt Thalia had made to rescue him and Hill. The girl blushed vividly, as once again, and very earnestly, his admiration showing in the steely-grey eyes, which seldom displayed emotion of any kind, Sir Leonard complimented her.
‘Now,’ he declared, ‘we will go and see what has happened to the garage. I wouldn’t mind betting that Kyprianos is not far from it.’
Begging some water and strips of clean linen from the kindly residents of the house, who also brought them wine and biscuits, Hill bathed and temporarily dressed Shannon’s wounds. That done, Thalia was left to the care of her sympathetic hosts, and the three men hurried out. Sir Leonard had suggested that Hill should remain, but the ex-doctor had pleaded to be allowed to accompany them, declaring that he felt quite all right. A little smile passed quickly across the chief’s face at that, but he made no comment, contenting himself with a nod of acquiescence.
The fire brigade was hard at work, but the flames had obtained too strong a hold to permit any hope being entertained now of saving the building. By this time it was broad daylight and, in consequence, the scene had lost some of the grim and grisly horror that had drawn hundreds of spectators to the spot even at that early hour, and had kept them chained there in fascinated awe. Skirting the crowd, and avoiding notice as far as possible, Wallace led his companions to the garage. It was still intact, though burning debris had fallen on and all round it. The door had been broken open by several men and, as they arrived, the car was being pushed out. Sir Leonard found Tempest close by. The agent of Lalére et Cie rapidly explained in an undertone that a man – the description fitted Kyprianos – had called on volunteers to help him save the car, explaining that the key of the garage door had been left in the burning buil
ding. It was rather strange that his pleas had met with such a ready response, considering the danger run in approaching the garage, but Tempest explained that he had behaved like a frantic child, making the most exaggerated promises.
‘Thank goodness, we have arrived in time to stop his little game,’ muttered Wallace. ‘Hill, go to that police officer over there, explain yourself as the Austrian Herr Kirche, who rented a flat here, and tell him that you think an attempt at robbery is being made, as the car, you feel sure, belongs to Signor Bruno.’
Grinning broadly, Hill hurried away. Sir Leonard’s sharp eyes, roving about, presently became focused on a small group of men standing secluded from the crowd, and half concealed beneath a great cypress. A little sigh, indicative of triumph, escaped from him. He did not know who was who, but he recognised them as the conspirators. Rapidly he gave orders to Shannon and Tempest, indicating the group, and warning them to be careful not to divulge their presence until the right moment. He cautiously handed his revolver to Shannon, assured himself that Tempest was armed, and the two moved quietly away. Sir Leonard guessed that it was the intention of the men to escape in the car with Kyprianos, as soon as the latter had driven it away, ostensibly to another garage. They would not dare to remain in the bungalow to which they had retreated, having probably witnessed Thalia’s escape, and concluding, therefore, that she would be bound to betray the place. Madame Bikelas would doubtless have been sent to a hotel, and instructed to leave Rome as soon as possible.
Kyprianos distributed gratuities with a lavish hand to his helpers, who promptly retreated out of danger. A mass of brickwork fell on the roof of the garage, breaking a great hole in it – the car had had a lucky escape. What a pity, reflected Wallace, that it had not happened before the door had been broken open! He saw the large case lying on the seat in the open tonneau, and vowed softly to himself that, whatever happened, it would not leave his sight again until it was destroyed. A half-burnt beam, still flaming, fell with a crash against the back of the car. Kyprianos gave a high-pitched cry, and pushed it away with his bare hands. He was behaving like the madman he had become; yet nobody took a great deal of interest in him, the fire itself proving too much of a magnet. He climbed into the driving seat, but found a great deal of difficulty in starting the car. His behaviour became more frenzied than ever.
It was at that moment that three police officers hurried up and accosted him. They demanded to know if the car belonged to him. The brain of Kyprianos was too far gone to prompt him to bluff them or to assure them, as he might well have done, that Signor Bruno had lent him the car, the case, with his name on it, being pointed to as evidence. Their appearance roused the devil in him; he screamed maledictions at them in his own language and in theirs. At once they approached closer to force him to leave the car. To his warped mind that was the last straw. He sprang to his feet, at the same time dragging an automatic from his pocket, and commenced shooting wildly. People within range dashed for safety with cries of rage and alarm. One policeman was hit, but his comrades quickly drew their own weapons, returning the Cypriot’s fire promptly and with far more accuracy. Hit in several fatal spots, Kyprianos swayed a little; then collapsed over the wheel – dead.
‘Excellent,’ observed Sir Leonard quietly, ‘the onus of removing him from the world has been transferred from us to the police.’
As he spoke, there was a great cracking sound. A huge portion of the wall of the burning house fell outwards, crashing down on the garage and car. The police barely escaped death, as they pulled their wounded companion out of danger; one of them, in fact, being hit by some of the debris. The car caught fire in several places at once, and quickly was a mass of flames. Nobody dared approach to drag the body of Kyprianos from it. Sir Leonard smiled cheerfully at Hill as the latter joined him.
‘That’s that,’ he commented. ‘Only fire could adequately and completely destroy those cultures, and fire is now engaged on the job. I have never come across a more eloquent case of poetic justice than this.’ He looked across at the spot where the other members of the band had been standing. They were no longer there. ‘Come along!’ he bade Hill. ‘We’ll go and find out what Shannon and Tempest have done with the rest.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
A Gallant Daughter of Greece
Obeying the instructions given to them by Sir Leonard, Shannon and Tempest had made a circuit, coming up behind the group of men standing under the cypress tree. Their approach was unnoticed, due to the great caution they exercised and the anxious watch the four men were keeping on the activities of Kyprianos. The Secret Service agents concealed themselves behind some bushes, and waited. They heard the others give expression to their alarm in various forcible ejaculations, when the police accosted Kyprianos. As he drew the automatic, however, and commenced shooting, their exclamations became more suggestive of thwarted and disappointed fury. The game was completely up, and they knew it. All that was left for them to do was to get away as quickly as possible. They turned at once to escape, stood stricken with utter dismay. Confronting them was the gigantic Englishman they had left to be burnt to death. A cynical, though amazingly good-humoured smile, considering the treatment to which he had been subjected, was on his face; the revolver, held steadily pointed at them, was eloquent proof that his intentions were not exactly friendly.
‘Isn’t this nice,’ he observed. ‘There’s Plasiras, Bikelas, Michalis, Padakis – Uncle Tom Cobbley and all. Well met, gentlemen. We’ll take a little walk, if you please.’
They stood too much in awe of this man to make any attempt at resistance. It was not so much the weapon he held as their knowledge of his might which kept them subdued. Directing them to lead him to the bungalow they had occupied, he forced them to walk two by two in front of him, assuring them he would shoot, without the slightest hesitation, anyone who attempted to escape.
Tempest did not show himself, but he was following, ready to aid Shannon in case of necessity. Sir Leonard had given him strict orders to keep out of sight, unless necessity made it imperative for him to appear. It would not be wise for the Rome manager of Lalére et Cie to be seen taking part in matters so much at variance with the sale of perfumes and other articles dear to the feminine heart.
A short distance from the scene of his coup, Shannon glanced quickly back to observe the car on fire and the body of Kyprianos lying grotesquely over the steering wheel. He cheerfully informed his captives of the fact, but was met with sullen silence as they tramped on dejectedly before him. Their thoughts must have been distinctly unhappy ones he decided, and smiled to himself. They reached the bungalow, the door was opened, and the four entered, reminded by a further warning from Shannon of the fate that would overtake them, if they attempted what he called ‘funny business’. He marshalled them into a small room, and courteously bade them to be seated.
‘You may be here for some time,’ he went on, as though chatting with friends, ‘so you may as well make yourselves comfortable. From all accounts, Italian prisons are not the most luxurious of residences.’
Bikelas shot him a terror-stricken look. Gone was the Greek’s suavity of manner, while there was no expression of benevolence now in a face that had become white and pasty-looking.
‘It is not your intention to hand us over to the police?’ he gasped.
‘It is,’ returned Shannon. ‘Of course, if it had been left to me, I should probably set about the lot of you myself by way of reprisal. It’s a pity I can’t. It isn’t that I mind so much that you left me to burn, but the fact that you treated a young girl in the same manner makes my blood boil.’ His voice had lost its casual note, and had become very stern. ‘You, above all, Bikelas, deserve to be hanged – indeed, hanging is far too good for you. Thalia Ictinos was, in a sense, a member of your family. Your wife, I believe, was very fond of her. Yet you could countenance the dastardly act conceived in the brain of a madman.’
‘I suffered most at her hands,’ retorted Bikelas, ‘for she betrayed my confidenc
e in her.’
‘How did you get away?’ snapped Plasiras.
‘Didn’t you see? We thought you’d be sure to be watching. Oh! I suppose you were too busy keeping observation on the garage, and wondering how to get the car out with its very valuable luggage.’
Exclamations of surprised consternation broke from the four men.
‘How did you know about the car and – and what it contained?’ asked Bikelas, almost in a tone of awe.
‘You’d better ask the man who has baulked your intentions at every turn,’ replied Shannon drily. ‘He will be here in a moment.’
‘Who is he?’
The sound of voices reached their ears.
‘You are about to meet him,’ returned the Englishman.
Four pairs of eyes looked towards the door, through which there presently entered a slim, upright figure. The conspirators saw before them a man with an attractive, good-humoured face, in which a pair of remarkably sharp, steel-grey eyes belied his general air of nonchalance. He stood for a moment regarding them, his left hand thrust casually into his pocket, his right holding a pipe.
‘A poor looking bunch,’ he commented. ‘Did you have any difficulty with them, Hugh?’
‘Not a bit, sir. They were most lamblike. I haven’t searched them for weapons. They’re probably well-armed.’
‘Hill,’ called Sir Leonard. The ex-doctor entered the room; looked questioningly at him. ‘Relieve those fellows of any weapons they may possess,’ directed the chief; ‘we don’t want them to get hurt, if we can help it.’
Microbes of Power (Wallace of the Secret Service Series) Page 31
