Agent Nine Solves His First Case: A Story of the Daring Exploits of the G Men
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Chapter V A SLIVER OF STEEL *
The time seemed endless. Actually it could only have been seconds thatBob sat there watching the turning of the doorknob. Then the knob startedback. Unseen fingers had learned what they wanted to know. The door wasnot locked.
Through the hulking building there seemed no sound except Bob's ownstrained breathing. In the corridor it was as quiet as in the room, yetsomeone must be outside the door, testing the lock.
Bob shook his head. He must be dreaming. His nerves must be over-wroughtfrom too much work and on edge from the talk he had earlier in theevening with his uncle.
Reaching out, he tilted the shade of his desk lamp back and a flood oflight struck the doorknob. No! His eyes had not tricked him. The knob wasstill turning. There was a faint click and then the knob remainedstationary.
Bob leaped into action. In one fast lunge he was across the room, hishands gripping the doorknob. He tugged hard, but the door refused toopen. Then he paused for hurried footsteps were going down the hall. Bobshouted lustily. Perhaps his cry would reach the guard at the elevators.
Then he shook the door. It couldn't be locked, of that he felt sure.Bracing himself again he tugged at the door and almost fell overbackwards when it suddenly opened.
Bob stepped into the corridor. There was no one in sight but from adistance he could hear someone hurrying toward him. A guard came around aturn in the corridor.
"Did you call just then?" demanded the watchman.
"I'll say I did," replied Bob. "Someone was trying the door here and whenI tried to open it, the door stuck. Then I let out a whoop. Didn't yousee anyone?"
"No one came my way," said the guard quickly, but his eyes did not meetBob's squarely. "We'd better look along this end of the corridor. Ifsomeone was here, he might have slipped into one of the other offices."
Bob shook his head.
"No, he wouldn't have done that. Besides, I distinctly remember hearinghim running down toward the elevators."
"Well, I wasn't asleep and no one came my way," insisted the guard."Maybe you were dreaming a little. You look kind of tired."
"I am tired, but this was no dream," insisted Bob. Then he remembered thedoor. What had made it stick? It hadn't been locked.
"Give me your flashlight," said Bob and the guard handed over a shiny,metal tube.
Bob turned the beam of light on the floor, and searched closely.
"What are you looking for?" asked the guard.
"For the reason why the door stuck," said Bob tartly. Then he found it--athin sliver of steel that had been inserted as a wedge. It was aninnocent enough looking piece, but when placed properly in a door couldcause considerable delay.
Bob picked it up and placed it in his pocket. Although he was not awareof it at the time, it was the first piece of evidence in a mystery whichwas to pull him deep into its folds and require weeks of patient effortto untangle.
The guard had edged over to the door and now reached out to pull it shut.Only a sharp order from Bob stopped him.
"Keep your hands off the doorknob," he ordered. "Someone was tamperinghere and I don't want you messing your hands around the place."
The guard hesitated as though undecided whether to obey Bob, and theclerk stood up and doubled up a fist.
"Better not touch that door." There was a steelly quietness in the wordsthat decided the guard, and he stepped well back into the corridor.
"You'd better get back to your post. I'll take care of this situation,"said Bob. "I'll keep your flashlight and return it to you when I leavethe building. I want to do a little scouting around and may need thislight."
The guard grumbled something under his breath, but retreated down thecorridor and finally vanished from sight. Bob disliked him thoroughly forhis attitude had been one of sullen defiance; so unusual from the mengenerally on duty at night. It might be well to speak to Jacobs about itin the morning.
Just to make sure that no one came along and touched the doorknob, Bobtook out his handkerchief and tied it around the knob in a manner whichwould protect possible fingerprints.
That done, he picked up the flashlight again and started to reconnoiterin the corridor, trying one door after another. There was just apossibility that the marauder had found a hiding place in an office whichhad been left unlocked. Bob knew that it was almost a useless quest, forthe offices were checked each night.
He made the rounds along one side of the corridor and started back on theside opposite his own office. The night lights were on and at the far endof the corridor it was necessary for him to use the flashlight.
Door after door proved unyielding to his touch and he was about to giveup the quest when he came upon a door that swung inward when his handsgripped the knob.
Bob drew back suddenly and flashed the beam of light into the long room,which was almost identical with the one in which he had been working.What he saw there startled him more than he dared to admit later, and hestepped inside and moved toward the nearest desk.
The ray from the flashlight revealed the utter confusion in the room.Baskets of papers on top of the desks had been upset and even the drawersin the filing cabinets had been pulled out and their contents hurledindiscriminately over the floor.
A slight sound startled Bob and he swung around, the beam of lightfocusing on the door.
It was closing--swiftly and silently.
Bob leaped forward, stumbled over a wastepaper basket, and then reachedthe door which clicked shut just before he could grasp the handle.
Bob tugged hard on the door, but like the one which led to his ownoffice, it stuck.
Could it be another wedge of steel? Bob wondered and braced himself foranother lusty tug. The door gave way and Bob toppled backward in a heap,the flashlight falling and blinking out.
Bob had fallen heavily and for a moment he remained motionless on thefloor listening for the sound of someone moving along the corridor. Hecould have shouted for the guard, but an inward distrust of the man kepthim from doing that. Instead, he groped around for the flashlight, turnedit on, and got to his feet, considerably shaken in mind and body by theexperiences of the last few minutes.
The young clerk reached for the light switch and a glare of light floodedthe room, revealing even further the destruction which had been wroughtthere.
Bob looked around. Hundreds of papers had been strewn on the floor; someof them had been ruthlessly destroyed and he wondered how many valuabledocuments would be lost when they finally checked up.
But this was no time for inaction, he decided, and he hastened to one ofthe desks and picked up a telephone. He dialed quickly, but it was nearlya minute before a sleepy voice answered.
"Hello, Uncle Merritt?" asked Bob anxiously.
"No, I'm not home; I'm still at the building. I wish you'd get down hereas soon as you can.
"No, I haven't had an accident, but some mighty strange things have beengoing on around this floor tonight. One of the offices has beencompletely ransacked. I'm in it now. Papers have been thrown all over andthe filing cases opened and a lot of stuff destroyed.
"Who did it? Gosh, I wish I knew. Someone's been shutting doors on me andleaving steel wedges in them. It's giving me the creeps."
"I'll be right down," promised the Department of Justice agent.
Bob placed the receiver back on its hook and backed out of the room. Thefewer things he touched the better it would be and as he drew the doorshut, he was careful to keep his hands off the knob for there was apossibility of valuable fingerprints being there.
An eerie feeling raced up and down Bob's spine as he turned toward thedoor which opened into the office where he worked. The building was soquiet it was disturbing, yet he knew some unknown marauder had been busyon the floor while he had been bent over his desk. Could the unknown beafter the radio secrets his uncle had hinted about? It was certainlyworth considering.
Bob reached the door t
hat led into the office where he worked and stoppedsuddenly. He felt cold all over as he stared at the doorknob. Heremembered distinctly having wrapped his own handkerchief around the knobto preserve possible fingerprints. But there was no handkerchief therenow and the door was slightly ajar. The light had been on when he steppedinto the hall, but now the room was in inky darkness.