‘The dwarf!’ he mused. ‘That’s a nuisance. Somebody will probably come back to look for him. I wonder where he came from.’
He ventured another look at the recumbent man, decided that he would probably remain unconscious for some time then, having found in which direction to go, proceeded cautiously on his way.
Before long he collided with the rock, discovered that the passage took a turning to the right; went carefully on. He could hear the howling of the wind now, and the lapping of water. Presently the opaque blackness seemed to diminish. He turned another corner; stopped abruptly. Electric torches lit up the scene, giving him a perfect view of what was ahead of him. Twenty or thirty yards farther on lay a large motorboat in an inlet from the sea. Although sheltered to a great extent from the storm that still raged without, she was rocking violently, her fenders every now and again coming into sharp contact with the ledge of rock to which she was moored. The latter made an excellent landing stage. Two men stood there looking somewhat anxiously in the direction of the cave. As Wallace watched, Ictinos appeared from the cabin amidships, frowning portentously. He said something to one of the men, who reluctantly began to walk in Sir Leonard’s direction. The fellow had almost reached the turning, when the Greek’s voice came booming along the gallery.
‘Hurry!’ it cried. ‘It will be daylight before we are aboard the Electra.’
Sir Leonard smiled to himself.
‘Thank you,’ he murmured softly, ‘that’s all I wanted to know,’ and stepped back into the darkness.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The Organisation is Reduced by Two
He retreated for some distance; then stood still awaiting the coming of the man he could not see, but whose footsteps were plainly discernible. It had occurred to him that, as he had been more or less forced by circumstances to have one prisoner on his hands, he might as well have two. The little fountain-pen-like torch was in his hand now, nestling by the side of the revolver. The approaching man also carried a flash lamp, but, as he kept its ray focused on the ground, he was not aware of the presence of Sir Leonard until the latter switched on his own light; then, for a moment, did not know who stood before him.
‘Where the devil have you been, Paul?’ he growled. ‘You’re keeping us all waiting. The guv’nor—’
‘Don’t make a movement, or you’re a dead man,’ came Sir Leonard’s stern command. ‘I am covering you with a revolver.’
A startled gasp broke from the alarmed man. His jaw dropped ludicrously; his eyes, wide open with fear, strove owlishly to pierce the brilliant light full on him, in an effort to discover who was behind it in the gloom.
‘Who – who are you?’ he stammered.
‘That doesn’t matter. You can drop that torch. I’ve enough illumination here for two.’ The flashlight fell to the ground obediently. ‘In case you feel like playing any tricks,’ went on Sir Leonard, ‘this will perhaps warn you to refrain.’
He fired rapidly twice, the bullets humming close by the right ear of the now thoroughly frightened man. He ducked apprehensively. From the mouth of the cave could faintly be heard cries of consternation; directly afterwards came the staccato beat of a motor engine, at first in a hesitant manner; then more continuously, as it warmed to its work. Wallace smiled. He had counted on Ictinos taking alarm, and fleeing.
‘Your friends, it appears, have decided to leave without you,’ he observed. ‘Come along; this way, and remember that a revolver as well as a torch will be pointed full at the middle of your back.’
With a sound that was something between a curse and a groan, the man obeyed orders. Sir Leonard crushed himself against the wall of the cave to allow him to pass, following closely behind as he stumbled his way along. Suddenly another torch flashed out ahead.
‘Put your hands up,’ cried the voice of Cousins.
‘It’s all right,’ Wallace reassured him. ‘This chap is with me, and well covered. There’s another at the foot of the ladder having a little rest.’
‘Yes; I noticed him,’ chuckled Cousins; ‘in fact I stepped on him. I heard the shots, found a torch, and came down, expecting to find you in difficulties, sir.’
‘The only time I was in any difficulty,’ returned Sir Leonard, ‘was when that dwarf hurled himself down the ladder on me. Where did he come from? Didn’t you see him?’
‘No. Do you mean to say he followed you down?’
‘He did. Probably he was in the pantry, or hidden in the scullery, and saw me pass.’ They reached the foot of the iron ladder. Paul was still lying there unconscious. ‘Pick him up,’ ordered Sir Leonard, prodding his prisoner in the back. ‘You’ll have to carry him to the top. You go first, Jerry, and keep your gun handy.’
His orders were obeyed. Cousins hastened up, and stood by the trapdoor, his torch lighting up the shaft, and his automatic covering the man, who laboriously followed with the dwarf slung over his shoulder. Wallace stood at the bottom until all were up then, pushing his torch and the revolver into his pocket, ascended in his turn. In the scullery he examined Paul, who now lay on the floor breathing stertorously, after which he quietly inspected the man he had captured. The latter, whose battered face and large, ill-shapen ears denoted that he had once been a pugilist, stood sheepishly with downcast head, while Cousins, quickly and expertly searched him. He possessed no weapons.
‘Who are you?’ demanded Sir Leonard.
Cousins answered for the fellow.
‘His name’s Farrell, sir; the only one of the bunch who possesses any feelings of humanity. He did his best to give me a certain amount of fresh air in the box room by leaving the door wide open when I was not inside, and he actually found courage enough to protest when the steel belt was fastened on me and orders given for me to be kept chained. For that indiscretion Ictinos knocked him down, and kicked him.’
‘H’m!’ commented Sir Leonard. ‘You are apparently a little less poisonous than the rest of your crowd.’ He took from his pocket the list of those serving Ictinos, and consulted it. ‘William Farrell,’ he read, ‘wanted by the Bristol police for robbery with violence, by the Metropolitan police for being concerned in three smash and grab raids, and by the police of Leeds for blackmail. A pretty hefty record, my man, which will probably get you anything from fifteen years upwards. Still, as you don’t appear to be wanted for murder like the rest of your companions, we might make things a little easier for you – if you are willing to give us all the information you can about the activities of Stanislaus Ictinos.’
‘Who are you?’ asked Farrell hoarsely.
‘Does that matter? However, if it will interest you at all to know, my name is Wallace.’
The battered face turned pale.
‘Hell!’ ejaculated the fellow. ‘Then you weren’t killed after all! The guv’nor was right.’
‘Yes; the guv’nor, as you call him, was right. Well, what is it to be? Are you coming clean, or refusing to talk? I might as well tell you that, apart from your criminal operations, I have the most utter contempt for you. A man who will take part in betraying his own country for gain or otherwise is, to my mind, the most despicable of worms. I can find no excuse for traitors whatever. Nevertheless, if you show willingness to assist us by telling us everything you know about Ictinos, I will use my influence with the police on your behalf.’
Farrell hesitated for some moments. At length he appeared to make up his mind.
‘What do you want to know?’ he asked sullenly.
‘I’ll tell you when we get to London,’ returned Wallace curtly. ‘Throw some water on the dwarf’s face. It’s time we brought him to.’
‘Take my advice,’ grunted Farrell, ‘and tie him up before he comes to his senses. When he finds he’s a prisoner he’ll be like a wild cat. I know him.’
Sir Leonard’s eyebrows lifted slightly.
‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘Cousins, look round and see if you can find some rope.’
‘There’s some in that cupboard over there,’ indicated the e
x-pugilist.
It certainly looked as though he had made up his mind to be of assistance. The rope was procured, and Cousins deftly trussed up the dwarf. Then Farrell emptied a basin of water on his face. Such drastic treatment on that icy cold morning proved quickly efficacious. Paul stirred; presently his eyes opened. He gazed in wonderment round him, a puzzled frown crossed his face when he became aware that he was bound; then, as memory reasserted itself, and he realised he was the prisoner of the man he had attacked in the shaft, he broke out into a high-pitched torrent of blasphemy in a mixture of Greek, French, and English, struggling madly the while to release himself. Sir Leonard watched him for a few minutes.
‘You were right,’ he observed to Farrell. ‘There is quite a lot of the wild cat about him. Tell me,’ he went on; ‘why did you warn us, when it was possible that, being ignorant of his character, we might have been taken by surprise, thus enabling you to make a bid for liberty?’
‘Oh, I guess I’m not so sorry it’s all over,’ replied Farrell in a somewhat shamefaced manner. ‘I’m pretty tough, but I couldn’t stomach some of the things the guv’nor did, and I’d had about enough. Besides it’s hell to be always wanted by the police; it gets on your nerves after a while. You can take it from me, sir, that I wouldn’t have got mixed up with Ictinos’ racket, if it hadn’t offered a fair amount of security. I was only with the gang six months, and that was just about five months and a half too long. Anyhow, it’s quite a relief to be shot of them, and I can take my medicine without whining.’
‘How did the Greek get in touch with you?’
‘Came to the place where I was hiding up, and got me to join him. How he found out where I was, I don’t know, but I reckon he’s pretty well in with people who give shelter to fellows like me. He recruited his gang from those who have a price on their heads – it gives him a hold on them – but you seem to know all about that.’
‘Yes; I know all about that,’ agreed Sir Leonard. He turned to Cousins, and drew him aside. ‘Go out and see if the car is locked away,’ he whispered. ‘If so, let me know, and I’ll come and get the door open. If you can get to it, wireless headquarters – you know where the installation is, don’t you?’ Cousins nodded. ‘Tell them to send down two or three men to join Cartright and Hill, and also phone through to Lady Wallace that I’m all right. Then get in touch with Cartright, inform him about the disaster on the bridge, and tell him to get an ambulance out there. Notify him also that we’ll be along in about three quarters of an hour.’
Cousins hurried off, and Sir Leonard turned back to his prisoners. Farrell stood dejectedly with his hands in his pockets; the dwarf still continued to scream maledictions, but Wallace took no notice of him. He let down the trapdoor, and fastened it, after which, ordering Farrell to accompany him, and holding his revolver handy, he made a tour of the house, switching on all the lights and cursorily inspecting every room. He hardly expected that anything of importance would have been left in the building, and he had no time to make a meticulous examination, but the men he would send down would go through every apartment as though with a small-tooth comb. Cousins returned while he was still on the upper storey.
‘The garage was unlocked,’ reported the little man. ‘They had searched it and your car pretty thoroughly, I should imagine, though how they could have expected us to get in, and lock the door on ourselves, I can’t think.’
‘Perhaps it never had been locked,’ remarked Wallace.
‘Oh, yes, it had, sir. You told me so, didn’t you?’ he asked, turning to Farrell.
‘That’s so,’ nodded the latter.
‘Well, it doesn’t matter,’ observed Sir Leonard. ‘Is everything all right?’
Cousins drew him out of earshot of the crook and, keeping his automatic turned on the man, told Wallace in a low voice that he had carried out his orders to the letter. He had one item of news, however, which relieved Sir Leonard’s mind a great deal. Maddison and Reynolds had not been killed in the smash, though both were badly injured, particularly the former. The wireless apparatus in the car had been shattered, but Reynolds, although suffering from a broken arm, two fractured ribs, and a badly cut face, had made his way to the house where Cartright and Hill were staying, and had informed them of the disaster. An ambulance had been immediately sent to the scene, and the police notified, Cartright telling the latter that Secret Service headquarters would get in touch with them concerning the affair. Maddison, with a fractured skull, and several other injuries, and Reynolds were now in hospital, but both were expected to recover. Poor Cunliffe was dead – had been shot through the head. Sir Leonard listened without comment, except to express his sorrow at the death of the young man, and his relief that the others were alive.
A few minutes later they left the house, Farrell carrying the dwarf who had now discontinued his ravings, but whose eyes glared hatred at the men into whose power he had fallen. Wallace locked the front door, and retained the key. The big gates were unbarred and opened and, with Cousins at the wheel, and Sir Leonard inside keeping a watchful eye on Farrell and the dwarf, who had been deposited on the floor, the car was driven rapidly towards the bridge connecting Sheppey with the mainland.
Glancing at his watch as they drew near the scene of the tragedy, Sir Leonard found that it was close on five. The wind had decreased considerably, and the sky had cleared a good deal, but it was still bitterly cold. A breakdown gang from Sittingbourne was already working to haul Maddison’s smashed car back to the road as they passed, and several members of the local police force stood by, but they did not stop, and no effort was made to detain them, though curious glances were turned in their direction. The fact that they were abroad at such an early hour no doubt caused a certain amount of surprise to men who did not know who they were.
The house in which Cartright and Hill had taken up their quarters was found without much difficulty. The former was awaiting them. Sir Leonard handed over the key of the house near Minster to him, giving him instructions to proceed there as soon as he was joined by the men from London. Enquiries elicited the news that Maddison had not regained consciousness, but that both he and Reynolds were doing as well as could be expected. A few further injunctions, and the car proceeded on its way. On arrival in London, Farrell and Paul were taken to Scotland Yard, and handed over to the inspector of the special branch then on duty, to be locked up and kept there until Wallace sent for them. Farrell walked to his cell quietly, without uttering a word, but the dwarf, as soon as he was released from his bonds, fought and screamed like a wild animal. It eventually took three stalwart constables to carry him to a cell, where he was deposited none too gently, as a little punishment for his obstreperous behaviour, and the door locked on him.
Wallace found a very relieved Major Brien awaiting his coming at headquarters. The latter greeted Cousins first almost as he might have done an acquaintance risen from the grave; then turned eagerly to his friend.
‘By Jove! I’ve been anxious,’ he confessed. ‘I stopped here all night, expecting to hear from you, but, as hour after hour went by, and no news came through, I almost went dippy. Molly kept ringing up, too, but I did my best to reassure her.’
‘You’ve told her that everything’s all right, I hope.’
‘I have, my son. Rang her up as soon as Cousins’ message came through.’
Sir Leonard sank wearily into a chair, and yawned.
‘You’ll never be an ideal member of this service, Billy,’ he observed. ‘You are too prone to allow individual affections to cause you anxiety, and thus interfere with duty.’
‘Well, I like that,’ protested the indignant Brien. ‘No matter how I may feel, I have never—’
‘Another of your shortcomings,’ went on Sir Leonard, ‘is that you never know when your leg is being pulled.’ He drew out the documents which had filled his pockets, and threw them on the desk. ‘Lock these away carefully,’ he directed; ‘among them are the copies of the plans of the Wentworth gun and Masterson monoplane
.’
Brien gave vent to a cry of delight.
‘Then you have succeeded,’ he exclaimed; ‘the job is done, and this is the end of the business.’
Sir Leonard sighed.
‘On the contrary,’ he returned, ‘it is just the beginning.’
Major Brien questioned him eagerly, demanding to know what he meant. Sir Leonard related the conversation he had had with Monsieur Damien, and the promise he had made.
‘Until we have recovered the plans of the French frontier fortifications or France has been forced to pay up,’ he concluded, ‘we cannot consider the business finished. Apart from that, I shall never rest until I have smashed this gang and put finis to the activities of Ictinos. Of course, he may get me first; I believe he is very keen on doing so. In that case,’ he added grimly, ‘I shall certainly rest. He has murdered Cunliffe, and very nearly Maddison and Reynolds as well. In addition, he set his jackals on to us yesterday when your wife and mine and Adrian were in the car. That was unforgivable, and he’ll answer to me for that, if for nothing else.’
It was exceptional for Wallace to show vehemence, but on this occasion he permitted his companions to see a little of the force underlying his usually genial, easy-going manner. They knew, of course, of its existence. Nobody who had worked with him could fail to do so. But it was so rarely that he allowed it to come to the surface that they were a little awed. On his face was an expression of inflexible resolve, of almost ruthless determination. He noticed the way in which they were regarding him, and laughed – a little harshly.
‘Tell us what happened to you, Cousins,’ he suggested, turning to the little man. ‘How did you get trapped?’
Cousins related everything, from the time he left Victoria arrayed as a naval gunner until rescued by Wallace. The story took some time in the telling, though neither of his listeners interrupted, except when he spoke of the impersonation of Shannon; then Brien, glancing at the chief with admiration showing in his eyes, said: ‘That is exactly what you conjectured might have happened.’ Wallace nodded slightly; bade Cousins continue. The former paid most attention to the latter’s interview with Ictinos, but it added little to what he already knew.
Get Wallace! Page 15
