Quinn laughed. “But Captain—how many times have you tested me? You’ve even brought doctors here to examine my eyes. I’m blind! Could the Black Bat operate as he does, bereft of his sight? No, Captain, you’re on the wrong track as usual. I’m afraid…”
The phone rang and Silk hurried to answer it. He carried the instrument over to where McGrath sat, plugged it into a convenient socket.
“For you, Captain.”
McGrath barked a greeting and then did a lot of listening. When he hung up, his face was flushed.
“Look here,” he said to Quinn, “you’re Viola King’s lawyer. Maybe you’re the Black Bat too, but right now I’m speaking to you as an attorney. That call was from a G-Man. They tapped the phone wires to Viola King’s house. There’s some kind of a law against doing that, but in this case all rules are suspended. They picked up a conversation between Viola and her father.
“So he isn’t dead—he’s alive and helping the Patriot. He may even be the Patriot himself. Viola has been named as the go-between and she is to receive orders later.”
Quinn slowly removed the pipe from his lips. “So that’s the method the Patriot intends to employ. It places Viola in a dangerous situation. Yet, what can she or anyone else do about it?”
McGrath arose. “The Patriot sure seems to hold all the cards. Well—I’ve got to get busy. All I hope is that the Black Bat isn’t dead. I’ve never hoped for anything so much in my life.”
After McGrath had gone, Quinn entered the lab. Carol rushed into his arms, her eyes, tear stained, yet shining in the light of complete happiness.
Finally Quinn said, “The case rapidly is building up to a point where the Patriot is gong to get his money or find himself in a cell on Death Row.”
“Tony,” Carol said, “I overheard a phone call between Viola and her father.”
Quinn sat down beside her. “McGrath just learned all about it too. That call was made from Halton’s summer home during the time when I was busy saving Butch and Silk. Joel King must have been concealed in the house somewhere, never permitted to come into contact with any visitors, welcome or unwelcome. And, incidentally, there goes my clue—the telephone number which was called at Halton’s place.
“I hoped it might lead me to something more definite than Viola King. Just before McGrath arrived Silk checked the number so I wasn’t particularly surprised when McGrath told me that story—which you have further verified, Carol.”
“But what are we going to do?” Carol asked. “If Viola King helps her father and through him, the Patriot, she’ll be in terrible danger. No matter which way it turns out, the police or those crooks will be after her.”
Quinn nodded. “I know, but if she has been appointed as the go-between, we can’t stop it. I’ll see her as soon as I can—find out what her orders are and it’s possible we’ll find something to work on there. It’s our only chance…”
Silk opened the secret door and interrupted him. “A car just pulled up, sir. You’d better come out.”
Quinn picked up his cane, smiled at Carol and hurried into the next room. He sat down, his eyes filmed over and he started puffing on his pipe again.
Silk let two people in—Viola King and Hank Standish. Both were conslderably agitated. Silk announced them, helped Viola into a chair near Quinn and then discreetly withdrew.
Quinn said, “I’m very glad you came, Viola. I wanted you to see me of your own accord. I know all about your being appointed as the Patriot’s agent. I know your father isn’t dead, but appears to be working with the Patriot. I learned all this from the police.”
“What shall I do?” Viola begged. “It’s my father. They’ll kill him if I don’t obey and if I do—it means the Patriot will have won.”
Quinn gave her some advice. “It is your father, Viola. In some countries all allegiance must be made to the state. Family ties are thrown away, but this is the United States where, fortunately, we respect our parents and try to help them. If you refuse to obey the Patriot’s orders, your father will be murdered. Your gesture will be vain anyhow because it would be a simple matter for that crook to get someone else. He has chosen you because he can trust you, and he has a hold over you.”
“No,” Hank Standish suddenly shouted. “I disagree. This matter concerns the entire world. It isn’t just Joel King. He is working with those crooks and doesn’t deserve any sympathy. I say Viola should keep out of it—that she should tell the police everything, work in unison with them if necessary.”
Viola sighed deeply. “Hank and I have been arguing about it for an hour, Mr. Quinn. I felt as you did and now I’m convinced. I shall obey the Patriot, do precisely what he asks.”
“Then you don’t have to wonder why I’m not dropping in to see you any more,” Hank Standish roared. “They’ll kill your father no matter what you do to help them. People like the Patriot don’t split their take with anyone else. You’re being a fool and this attorney is—well his eyes aren’t the only sightless thing about him. His brain is just as blind.”
Hank Standish grabbed his hat and strode to the door. Silk let him out and disappeared again.
Viola was crying softly. Quinn asked her questions calculated to stop those tears.
“Tell me—do you really believe your father perfected this death machine? Was there any evidence that he had finished it?”
Viola dabbed at her eyes again. “I—don’t know. Dad kept me in school all the time. He even refused to allow me to come home during vacations—said he was too busy to see me. I came home unannounced one day and I found him in the laboratory. I wanted to surprise him so I looked in the window first. He had a rabbit—in a cage. There was a funny looking thing pointed at the rabbit. Then, when I entered the laboratory—the cage was empty and there were no signs of the rabbit. Father never mentioned anything about this to me.”
“And you came home this time also unannounced?”
“Yes—I begged him to let me come back, but he didn’t even answer my letter. So I came along without his permission. Except for that day or two a year ago, it was the first time I’d been home in four years. I didn’t know anyone—the neighbors had changed—everything was different. It wasn’t like home any more.”
“Tell me,” Quinn asked, “the night those men appeared—just what happened? Standish told me he recognized none of them.”
“Those men came. Hank tried to—to prevent them from coming in and they tied him up. They shoved me into a clothes closet. I heard Mr. Halton cry out and that was all until—the Black Bat came.”
“And Standish told you the same story, Viola? I must know the truth. It is very important.”
Viola looked at the floor for a moment. “He did recognize someone. It was—my father. Hank swore it was. He said Dad went to the safe, opened it and took out some papers. He told me he didn’t admit this to anyone because he—wanted to protect me.”
Quinn arose and she stepped to his side. He said, “Go home now and stay there until you hear from the Patriot. If you wish to ask my advice—or even tell me what he has ordered, feel free to do so. In fact it might be best if you did tell me.”
“I—mean to tell the police,” Viola said. “Unless you advise against it.”
“I do—very much. Your father’s life depends on this and we must save him somehow. By freeing him you will not only benefit yourself, but also the government. Your father knows the secret of that machine. He could build another. Good night, Viola.”
CHAPTER XVI
Headquarters Conference
Next day, during the first matinee performances in several movie theatres in the Times Square district, patrons received more than their money’s worth. When the news films began, they were suddenly interrupted by a glaring title indicating that the next scene would show the three torpedo boats being destroyed. The pictures of their finish were clear and painfully vivid. Then, while the scene repeated itself again and again, a man’s voice spoke.
“You have just witnessed what t
he greatest weapon in the world can do. Nothing is safe from it. I am the Patriot. I have demanded twenty million dollars from your government for the secret of this device. That offer still goes, but there is not much time left. While statesmen dicker and argue, another great power has offered me twenty-five millions of dollars in cash.
“However, I did not name myself the Patriot because I liked the sound of that word. I really have the welfare of our nation in my heart—pro- vided they pay for the article I possess. Therefore, through you and everyone else who witnesses these pictures and hears my voice, I say to the authorities a token payment of a million dollars in small bills—fives, tens and twenties—must be neatly done up in small bundles and delivered to—Miss Viola King—before nine o’clock tonight!
“I shall consider it a token payment made in good faith. She will receive her own instructions and if she is interfered with, or this offer refused, I shall once more indicate how powerful my weapon is. The Acme Insurance Company Building will be blasted to its base. That is my warning. See that those men you have elected to represent you, heed it.”
There was a meeting at noon in Commissioner Warner’s office. Government officials, G~Men, Halton and Lockwood were present. So was Tony Quinn, whom Silk led in and helped to a chair.
Warner said, “Finally the Patriot has issued definite instructions. A token payment of a million dollars must be delivered to Viola King before tonight at nine. Mr. Halton, you flew from Washington where you had a conference with executives this morning. What do you suggest?”
“That we pay it—every penny. That we deliver the money to Viola King and withdraw, allow her to proceed with whatever instructions she receives. To try to trap the Patriot might result in a catastrophe.”
Lockwood stepped forward. “On the surface of it, Halton seems right. He has argued the point in Washington and he has told me the money is available. A million dollars isn’t too much to risk and it will stall the Patriot from exhibiting the powers of his infernal machine, or his turning it over, to another country. I think we should follow Halton’s advice.”
* * * *
The Director of the local Field Office of the F.B.I. banged his fist on the desk top. “I don’t. Every time we let the Patriot get away with something, he’ll become that much more sure of himself and make further demands. For this token payment of a million dollars he promises us nothing. My opinion is that the money should be turned over to Miss King, but she is to be kept under observation and when she makes contact with the Patriot or his men, we can move in.”
Warner looked over at Quinn. “What do you think about it, Tony?”
Quinn shrugged. “I’m Viola King’s attorney and I must look on the matter from her point of view. Her father’s life is threatened. Her own too, probably, if she fails to carry out these orders. As her attorney I agree with Halton. As a citizen of the United States, speaking off the record as a lawyer, I say go after the Patriot with everything you’ve got. If I were District Attorney, I would certainly not hesitate to take advantage of any situation through which I could get at the Patriot.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Halton yelled shrilly. “What does he know about matters like this? Anyway, gentlemen, it is quite out of your hands. The payment will be made. Miss King is not to be followed nor interfered with. We need a breathing spell during which you so-called protectors of the law can find a clue. We can get it by paying off.”
“Just a moment,” Warner flushed angrily, “before you criticize the police and other law agencies, perhaps you will explain why the Patriot’s men used your summer home as a hideout.”
“What?” Halton gaped. “My summer home? Good heavens, I didn’t know that. I swear it. Lockwood—why didn’t you tell me? After all, the place practically is yours.”
Lockwood took a long puff on his cigarette. “I didn’t know about it, Halton. It’s true that I have made arrangements to take title to the place, that I have keys to it and you no longer recognize the property as your own, but this is as much of a surprise to me as it is to you.”
“What difference does it make?” Halton bellowed. “The Patriot might have used anyone’s home as his headquarters. The fact remains that he possesses an instrument which can create havoc with the world. He demands an exorbitant price, but we’re spending billions on armaments that will be made absolutely useless against his device.
“We must gain possession of this machine. How will you gentlemen feel if he turns it on the Acme Insurance Company Building, as he has threatened? Hundreds of people will be killed—their blood on your heads. And that will be just the beginning. The Patriot is going to be paid off.”
Halton jerked his head toward the door for Lockwood’s benefit and they both stalked out. Warner sat down and shook his head from side to side. “He’s right, of course. Our hands are tied. We’ve encountered the greatest criminal on record and—met our match. Anyway, this meeting must not be made public. I don’t know what the police will do—yet.”
The G-Man Field Director arose. “I know what my men and I will do. We’ll watch Viola King, trail her and try to intercept the delivery of that money. This too, is a secret, gentlemen. If it leaks out, we shall know someone in this office is responsible. Let me know your decision, Commissioner, so we can work together if you wish it that way.”
* * * *
When only Quinn and Silk were left in the office, Warner relaxed a bit.
“Tony,” he said, “I wonder what the Black Bat would do under these circumstances? He’s supposed to be dead—I’d take my oath on that—but Captain McGrath claims he isn’t. I hope McGrath is right because if anyone can save this situation, the Black Bat can.”
Quinn signaled Silk who helped him up and piloted him in front of Warner’s desk.
“I don’t know about that, Commissioner,” Quinn said, “but I do believe some attempt should be made to trace the money Viola King will deliver. That’s up to you. I’m utterly helpless. Let me know what happens, will you? I still have a client to protect and don’t forget—you brought her to me.”
Going down the steps of Police Headquarters, Quinn spoke to Silk.
“Is my good friend, Steve Cobb, still hanging around with his cab? Interesting fellow, Steve. Swears he’ll chauffeur me from now on.”
“I don’t know what you see in that guy,” Silk growled. “He looks just like a dumb hack driver to me and that crate of his isn’t exactly the lap of luxury to ride in either.”
“Just the same I’m letting him drive us home,” Quinn said. “After all, he can’t pay me in cash so let him think he’s paying off by catering to my wants.”
Steve Cobb brushed Silk aside and aided Quinn into his cab. “Thanks, Steve,” Quinn said, “and say—stick around today, will you? Things are going to pop and I might find it necessary to go places fast. Leave your meter on—I’ll pay the charges.”
“I’ll be there whenever you want,” Steve Cobb vowed, “and the meter ain’t goin’ to be tickin’ either. Where to now, boss? Home?”
CHAPTER XVII
The Patriot’s Trick
Viola King received an unaddressed letter slipped beneath her door shortly before three o’clock. At seven that night Jim Halton and Lockwood appeared. They were accompanied by four heavily armed men who took up advantageous stations to cover the house. Halton and Lockwood carried four compact bundles with them. A million dollars, in small bills, unmarked and without numbers noted. Halton had insisted on this.
Viola King seemed almost lost in the big chair she occupied. Halton arranged the packages carefully on a table.
“Remember—the amount of money inside those wrappers is tremendous. We’re entrusting it to your care because we must. You have heard from the Patriot?”
“Yes—a letter. I—I don’t think I should tell you what it said. Mr. Quinn advised me…”
“Mr. Quinn be hanged,” Halton barked. “This is a government matter—nothing for a blind man to handle. Don’t tell anyone what is in that l
etter—not even me. Carry out your instructions and if anything happens, let me know instantly. We’ll be going now—so that there will be no interference with what you have to do. Good night, Miss King.”
Viola King sat staring at the bundles of money after Halton and Lockwood had gone. She glanced at a clock on the mantlepiece, saw that she had plenty of time and stayed in that chair until seven-thirty. Then she hastily donned her hat and a coat. Carrying the four bundles of money to the back door, she left them there temporarily while she got the car out of the garage and drove it up beside the back porch. Then she made two trips with the money, placing it into the rear seat.
When she rolled out of the driveway, a G-Man spoke sharply into a neighbor’s telephone anent her departure. At the next corner a car pulled out and followed at a discreet distance. It was equipped with a two-way radio and contained five men—three F.B.I. agents, Captain McGrath and another ranking police officer.
“Keep well back,” McGrath warned. “Maybe some of the Patriot’s men will start trailing her. If they do—we grab them, and fast. Hey—she’s heading for the outskirts.”
They rode in silence then, every man intent on watching the cheap car which Viola drove. She crossed the city line, keeping to the busy highway. Captain McGrath frequently spoke into the two-way radio system and every available police and G-Man car was tuned in. A mighty cordon was in the preparation of being thrown around whatever area Viola stopped in.
Suddenly the girl pulled over, about a hundred yards away from one of the busiest highway intersections in the state. Three distinct roads met here and the center of the intersection was controlled by an elaborate system of rotary traffic.
McGrath spoke into the radio again. “All cars—converge on Three Point Corner. Subject has stopped there. Cover each road, every lane. Stand by for complete description of contacting car.”
The five men drew guns. McGrath even removed a submachine rifle from its sleeve on the roof of the car. Still nothing happened. Viola apparently just sat waiting.
They saw a hearse roll past them, saw its brake lights wink, but no one paid much attention to it until the hearse pulled up directly beside Viola’s car.
Adventure Tales, Volume 6 Page 34
