THE VICTIM
At Intelligence Headquarters in Punta Delgada there was an expert
psychologist, versed in all the latest and most scientific methods of
probing a man’s veracity. With a sensitive galvanometer connected to
the hands of the subject, he could detect the slightest emotional
disturbance when no other evidence would reveal it. The morning after
Long was taken ashore with the understanding that his skill as an
electrician was to be utilized at Headquarters, Barton explained to
him that the task they wanted him for was one requiring presence of
mind and other faculties for which they wished to give him a
psychological test. Barton was well aware that as likely as not Long
knew he was caught, and was not to be fooled; but what if he did? They
had him, and he would have to submit to their test in any case. And in
any case their tests would reveal what they wanted. Since uncertainty
as to whether he was a prisoner or not was apt to increase Long’s
emotional instability, it seemed best to keep up the bluff of a
_bona-fide_ test of his fitness.
Long was placed in a comfortable chair with his hands in contact with
electrodes connected with the galvanometer whose mirror threw a spot
of light on a screen which the psychologist could watch, but which
Long could not. The psychologist then asked him questions or analyzed
his association processes with test words, observing the motion of the
spot of light on the screen. Some questions were calculated to test
his knowledge of electricity; others were apparently frivolous and
pointless. Whenever a question or word aroused an emotional response,
the spot would make a quick excursion across the screen. After a
series of idle-seeming questions, the psychologist made a remark which
was not calculated to ruffle the composure of any one, except that it
contained the name Wellman. Long continued to present an imperturbable
exterior, but the spot of light made the largest excursion that had
yet appeared. Some more unimportant patter followed which permitted
the spot of light to come to rest again. Another insignificant remark
was made containing a casual reference to the name of Rich. The spot
of light moved quickly on the screen and registered an even larger
excursion than had followed the name of Wellman. At this juncture
Evans quietly entered the room through a door behind Long’s back. At a
signal from the psychologist, he addressed a casual remark to Barton.
At the sound of his voice the spot of light shot off the scale on the
screen. When it had steadied again somewhat, Barton said to Evans, “By
the way, you said you had some repairs to make on that small
transmitter; have you got it working all right this morning?” Again
the spot of light went off the scale; a pulse-recording device showed
Long’s heart beating rapidly, and now beads of sweat stood out on his
forehead. His agitated state was completely ignored, and the test went
on, more innocuous talk being used to steady the spot of light. Barton
then dropped a harmless remark to Evans about Commander Rich, and once
again the spot jumped in a way that could never have been due to
instrumental error or chance. Long was then formally made prisoner.
Scarcely had this job been completed when Barton and Evans were fairly
stunned by the news that a dispatch had been received at Communication
Headquarters ordering Captain Fraser detached from duty as chief of
staff and to proceed immediately to Washington on whatever cruiser
could best be spared from the fleet. What on earth could this mean?
With the momentous preparations for action in progress, Fraser was
never needed in the fleet as much as now. The obvious inference was
that some crucial question had arisen in Washington, and he was wanted
for a conference. Yet Evans could not escape the feeling that
something was wrong; he could not help associating this new
development with the activities of Long and Rich. As head of the Radio
Division of the important Bureau of Engineering, Rich had the means at
his hand of wielding vast power for evil. Very likely he had created a
situation for recalling Fraser, knowing his to be the controlling mind
in the fleet; and quite possibly he would contrive to have a swarm of
enemy submarines lurking in the path of the cruiser that was to take
him home; or perhaps a mine-field would be laid across her path as she
approached home waters; perhaps some intrigue was on foot to get
Fraser discredited and put on the shelf when he reached Washington. As
a matter of fact, Rich was at the moment considering all these
possibilities of turning to account the removal of Fraser from the
fleet.
Evans and Barton at once held a conference on the subject. Barton was
at first inclined to assume that there was a good reason for Fraser’s
recall and to advise leaving matters alone until further developments
should arise. He did not feel that there was adequate reason to
suppose that Evans’s secret method of communication had broken down.
If it had not, Mortimer would already be investigating Rich, and any
unnecessary use of the method would add to the danger of its
discovery. If the method had broken down, any message Evans might send
would go to Rich instead of to Mortimer and would thus serve only to
help the wrong man by giving him information and putting him on his
guard. Finally, however, Evans succeeded in convincing Barton that a
show-down might avert disaster, and should be attempted at once. He
therefore went to Communication Headquarters and began once more to
“test a transmitter.”
Late that afternoon—the same day that Mortimer had received the
message about Fraser and acted on it—Rand received this message:
Go to M. in person, put nothing on paper, ask him verbally
to repeat back to me all messages received from me in this
way in the last two days. If you cannot do so, let me
know. Avoid head of division; danger. E.
Tompkins had just left the office for his rooms, whence he had gone on
his long and uncomfortable motor ride. Whatever caution and
watchfulness Rand possessed was now thoroughly aroused. He felt as if
all the sentries, yeomen, and orderlies in the Bureau were watching
him. Taking pains not to digress in any particular from his usual
routine, he put on his hat and coat and started home. But when he had
reached a corridor where he was unobserved, he took a roundabout way
to the Secretary’s office, where he found Mortimer just getting ready
to go home.
Mortimer frowned as Rand repeated his message to him.
“What’s troubling Jim now?” he said to himself. “Is he still having
notions about Rich?”
Then he said aloud to Rand, “Was there nothing more?”
“No, sir.”
“Well,” said Mortimer, “the only message I’ve received from him for
some time was as follows: ‘Recall Fraser to Washington at once.
Urgent.’ You can repeat that back to him and tell him that is all.”
“When did that come?” said Rand.
“This morning,” said Mortimer. “Commander Rich sent it to me by
special messenger when Tompkins was called away.”
“Tompkins called away? Where?”
“Commander Rich said he had been wired for because his wife was very
sick; he had barely time to catch his train; so the Commander
delivered the message for him.”
“His wife sick!” echoed Rand. “He’s not married.”
“Then perhaps it was his mother, I forget which,” said Mortimer.
“But he’s been working in the Bureau all day. I saw him walk out of
the office not half an hour ago.”
When Commander Rich planned his trick, he knew nothing of Rand’s part
in the system. His only intimations were the message of warning from
Long and the report of the spies he had posted in consequence of that
warning, to the effect that Tompkins had been seen trying to find the
Secretary. He had taken a gambler’s chance, and not an unreasonable
one, that Mortimer would hear nothing of an obscure employee in the
Bureau between the time of his alleged departure and the time when his
kidnapers should get him away from the city. But his gambler’s luck
had failed him.
Mortimer was thunderstruck. The message Rand had brought him took on a
new meaning. A council of war was held to guard against interception
or leakage in the exchange of messages with Evans which must now
proceed as rapidly as possible till the mystery should be cleared up.
Rand was told to repeat back to Evans the message about Fraser at
once.
In half an hour Evans in the radio station at Punta Delgada received
it, with difficulty containing his feelings lest the operators about
him should be started speculating about what did not concern them.
Without waiting to tell Barton what had happened, he sent back the
following:
Message as repeated was never sent from here. True message
was this: “We have evidence suggesting that the man I
warned you against last spring is involved in treason.
Watch him closely.” To-day more evidence has appeared in
confirmation. Fraser sorely needed in fleet; is already on
board cruiser bound for States.
Nervously Mortimer and Rand waited, discussing the ominous
possibilities of this crisis, till the message from Punta Delgada
arrived. Then Mortimer broke all records for speed in doing two
things: one was to tell the Chief of Naval Intelligence what had
happened; the other was to cable Punta Delgada canceling the orders
recalling Fraser and directing him to return at once to the fleet.
Captain Fraser, turning over his duties to the assistant chief of
staff, had boarded a fast scout cruiser and left the harbor of Punta
Delgada for the open sea late in the evening. The night was dark, and
by midnight the island of Saint Michael’s had disappeared astern, when
Fraser was roused from his sleep by a messenger with word that an
important radio message for him had just been received. To his
surprise he found that he had been directed to return at once to Punta
Delgada.
“Well, what next, I wonder?” he said to himself. “Something damn funny
seems to be going on.”
He sent back a radio ordering the arrangements to be made for opening
the gates in the nets to allow the cruiser to return to harbor, and
then, going up on the bridge, told the officer of the deck to change
course one hundred and eighty degrees and return to port. Before dawn
the cruiser was back at her moorings in the harbor.
Barton and Evans had both agreed that they had best continue to keep
to themselves the secret of Evans’s confidential relations with
Mortimer, and especially his secret method of communicating with
Washington. Barton therefore called on Fraser and merely explained
that he had been advised through secret channels from Washington that
Fraser’s recall had resulted in some way from the intrigue of a group
of spies, and that their plot had been discovered in time to cancel
the orders immediately after they were issued.
Meanwhile in Washington, Mortimer, as soon as he received the message
from Punta Delgada revealing the trick and casting suspicion on Rich,
went to Admiral Rallston, Chief of Naval Intelligence, and discussed
the problem with him. This officer cautioned him against taking
anything for granted.
“Clearly a dangerous spy is at work,” he said, “but let us not be too
hasty in placing the guilt. It behooves us to be cautious about
concluding that a man in Commander Rich’s position is guilty of
treason. The spy, whoever he is, will use every means he can think of
to make the blame appear unmistakably to fall on some one else. It is
easy to tap wires, you know.”
“That’s so,” said Mortimer. “What is the best move?”
“I advise you to go to Commander Rich to-morrow morning and, without
intimating that anything is amiss, refer to your telephone
conversation. If he does not deny having had such a conversation, ask
him to explain the discrepancy about Tompkins. You can judge from his
conversation whether he’s in a hole or whether some one else has
framed the thing up.”
Mortimer passed an uneasy night. The next morning he went to the
office of Commander Rich. While he had been in bed the message which
caused Fraser to turn back to Punta Delgada had been sent and
received, and his ship, turning back, had already reached the harbor.
It was by no miracle that these facts had found their way to certain
persons in Washington who had to do with radio apparatus; nor was it
surprising that the man who controlled all radio apparatus at its
source got wind of them before Mortimer made his call.
Before Mortimer was up and about, Commander Rich sent for a certain
henchman named Goss, and in the privacy of his room spoke to him thus:
“When the supreme test of duty comes, the faithful will not fail. Our
ruse has been betrayed. Yesterday morning I told the Secretary that
Tompkins had been called away by family sickness. The chances were a
thousand to one he would never hear that Tompkins was in the Bureau
after I said he had gone. By some mischance his suspicions have been
aroused; last night he canceled orders issued in the morning. Soon he
will come to question me. It is of supreme importance for the cause we
serve that I should stay at my post. I shall deny the telephone
conversation and tell him some one has played a trick and impersonated
me. But that will not suffice. To make my position secure, I must find
some one who can mimic my voice well enough to have deceived the
Secretary. Your power of mimicry deceived Tompkins. You will be called
on to show what you can do, avowedly for another purpose, and you must
play your part. I do you the honor to call on you for this sacrifice.”
An agonized look spread over the face of Goss.
“Master, is there no other way?” he said.
“None,” replied Rich. “I must stay, and you must go; the cause demands
it. By good fortune you may yet escape the extreme penalty. We must
also have evidence of tampering with the wires. Go quickly to the
Bureau before any one is about, and, in a well-concealed place, cut
the wires from the switch-board to Tompkins’s desk, then splice them
together again and put tape around the splices.
“When you are questioned, protest your innocence till the case is
proved against you. Own no master nearer than Constantinople. Tompkins
will not return; but, remember, you know nothing of that.”
When Mortimer called on Commander Rich at his office that morning,
Rich received him with disarming cordiality and equanimity. Indeed, he
did not look like a guilty man.
“Do you recall our telephone conversation yesterday morning?” said
Mortimer.
“No,” said Rich with a puzzled look. “I had forgotten we had one. What
was it about?”
“About Tompkins.”
“Tompkins?” said Rich. “Who is he?”
“An expert radio aide in your division. You said he had a message for
me.”
“I know the man you mean now; we have several aides, and I see so
little of them individually I am apt to forget their names. But I
recall nothing about any message. What was it?”
“You said he had a message he wished to deliver to me in person, but
was in a great hurry to catch a train because of serious illness in
his family. For that reason you undertook to deliver the message by
special messenger.”
“Mr. Secretary, I am certain that I had no such conversation with you;
this is the first I have heard of it. Some one else must have
impersonated me.”
“That is strange,” said Mortimer, “for it was I that called this
Bureau. I had received the message, and, being surprised at its
contents, I called up the Radio Division, and asked for Tompkins. I
was answered by your voice saying, ‘Commander Rich speaking,’ and
following with the statement I just told you. I have since learned
that the message as delivered to me was quite different from that
which was originally sent.”
“Most extraordinary,” said Rich, frowning. “There must be some one up
to mischief.”
He thought a moment, then resumed:
“Some one understanding the wires could have cut them and connected
them with a portable phone.”
“But how was it that I heard your voice?”
“A good mimic could easily have deceived you over the telephone. Was
the message very important?”
“Very.”
“This looks like a serious plot,” said Rich. “Some enemy agent must
have access to the wires in our Bureau; most probably he has been
planted in the Bureau itself. I will track this thing down at once.”
“Hadn’t you better get in touch with the Bureau of Naval Intelligence
about it?” said Mortimer.
“Yes; I’ll get them to send over a man who is good on wiring and that
sort of thing,” said Rich. “With a clue like this we should be able to
find the culprit shortly. We can question some of the officers and a
few of the more trust-worthy draftsmen and yeomen as to who was in the
vicinity of those wires yesterday morning. I haven’t a doubt we shall
find our man.”
Mortimer returned to Admiral Rallston in the Bureau of Naval
Intelligence and told him of the interview. Rich had seemed so
thoroughly in earnest he could not help but believe in his ignorance
of the whole affair, especially since in his own opening question to
Rich he had not even hinted that anything was wrong; he had merely
asked if he recalled the conversation. If Rich had been the villain,
why should he have changed his tactics overnight before receiving any
intimation that the message had been changed? Why should he not have
stood by his story of the day before? It all looked as if the spy were
some one else. Admiral Rallston concurred in this view. They would
give Rich what help he wanted in finding the spy, and await results.
That very afternoon Rich called at the room of Secretary Mortimer. He
already had two very important clues. A place had been found where the
wires to Tompkins’s desk had recently been cut and then spliced
together again. This explained the method whereby some one
impersonating Rich had been substituted for Tompkins on the line.
Besides this a certain chief electrician named Goss had been seen with
a portable telephone going through some of the rooms in that vicinity
yesterday morning. Goss was a man of unknown antecedents who looked
like a southern European of some sort; he had been known to entertain
the others by mimicry on one occasion. Rich proposed that, by way of a
trap, they approach Goss and tell him they have some special detective
work in which his help is desired; that they understand he is a fair
mimic, and would like to see what he can do, since that faculty will
be of assistance.
“I feel confident that he is our man,” said Rich. “If we show no signs
of suspecting him, but offer him the prospect of receiving increased
confidence, it will be just what he wants, and he will probably
display his talent. We can then confront him with the cut wires and
the evidence that some one was tampering with the line yesterday, and
that none but he could have done it. It is not unlikely that he will
then break down and confess.”
Mortimer agreed to this ruse, and went with Rich to his office, where
they met Admiral Rallston, who recalled the name of Goss as being
under suspicion of tampering with some radio gear. Goss was summoned,
and Rich explained to him that the Secretary wished a good electrician
for certain special duty requiring resource and presence of mind, and
that he, Rich, had selected him as a good candidate for the task.
Mortimer then questioned Goss as to his experience. Then Rich
addressed him.
“The Secretary tells me that in this work there may be occasion for
you to imitate the voice of another over the telephone. They tell me
that one day you amused the men in the drafting room by mimicking some
other members of the division. If you can do that, it will be very
useful.”
“I was just doing it for fun,” said Goss. “I don’t know as I could
really fool any one.”
“Let me hear you mimic Commander Rich,” said Mortimer.
Upon this Goss said a characteristic sentence in which he aped the
voice and manner of his master with such skill that Mortimer laughed
and Rich blushed in spite of himself. Goss glanced at Rich for an
instant. In the glance Rich saw a look of pathetic appeal; and even in
his hard and cruel heart there was a shadow of admiration and pity as
he realized how his henchman had shown his talent at its best, though
the revelation sealed his doom.
Rich cast a knowing glance at Mortimer who saw the convincing
significance of the demonstration. The action then moved swiftly.
Admiral Rallston took the lead and told Goss they wanted him to look
over some wires with them. Then he led the way, followed by Mortimer,
Rich, and Goss, to the severed wires, and, suddenly lifting the plank
that hid them, turned sharply on Goss, saying, “We want to know who
cut and spliced those wires.”
Goss, true to his master, appeared confused and disconcerted; then,
with a visible effort to regain his composure, professed his ignorance
of the matter. Mortimer and Rich looked on as Admiral Rallston grilled
his victim. At last they wrung from him a confession that he served
the Sultan, but when questioned as to his confederates he stoutly
insisted that he was his own master; Headquarters in Constantinople
had sent him and from none other had he taken orders.
With the fatalism of the Moslem he faced his execution. Rich was now
more strongly entrenched than ever in the good graces of the Navy
Department. His promptitude in finding the real spy had won him the
warmest commendation.
The day after Goss had confessed to cutting the wires and
impersonating Commander Rich, Mortimer instructed Rand to send a
secret message to Evans informing him that the original suspect had
been exonerated, and had in fact assisted them in finding the real spy
who was now imprisoned under a strong guard, and awaiting execution.
When Evans received this message his mind was troubled. He conferred
again with Barton and told him he was not satisfied.
“I’ll bet my last dollar that scoundrel is the guilty one,” he said.
“He’s just pulling their legs.”
He reviewed the evidence in detail.
“I believe you’re right,” said Barton. “But it’s hard to convince them
at this distance. I didn’t tell you,” he continued after a pause,
“what I learned about the Sheridan affair.”
“What was it?”
“You recall that when the _Sheridan_ asked for bearings, Fourth Cliff
was reported out of commission and Gloucester gave a bearing that was
found afterwards to have been sixteen degrees in error? I sent one of
the best Intelligence officers in the Bureau to investigate. He found
that a certain chief radio electrician named Goss, from the Bureau of
Engineering, had been to Fourth Cliff early that morning to inspect
the station, and had come to Gloucester at noon. He was alone in the
radio-compass shack there for a few minutes just after lunch, and
again about dusk just after the Sheridan went aground. The most
careful examination of the apparatus revealed nothing definite, but
the set-screw which holds the circular scale in place looked as if it
had recently been tightened.”
“My God!” cried Evans, “what a jackass I was not to get on to that. It
fits into the rest like the last piece in a picture puzzle. Look here!
The activities of those two men, Goss and Long, must have been
carefully planned beforehand. One of the most puzzling things of all
was the way those three bearings, although two of them were wildly
inaccurate, checked up with each other well enough to convince a
careful navigator in a fog. If the gear had been thrown out of true by
haphazard amounts they never would have given bearings so consistent
with each other, except by the merest chance. Those devils must have
decided where they wanted to locate the ship in order to put her
aground; then they must have worked out the errors scientifically in
the light of the ship’s actual position; and they did a damn smart job
of it.”
“Possibly Long sent a message from the ship in some secret code,
telling Goss where they were, so that he could calculate the desired
error,” said Barton.
“That’s the most probable bet,” said Evans. “Anyway, it shows clearly
that there was careful planning from some headquarters of deviltry,
which, unless I’m much mistaken, means Rich.”
“Goss is being watched, but thus far we haven’t pinned anything on
him,” said Barton. “No suspicion of Rich has been mentioned hitherto.”
“Seems to me,” said Evans, “it’s up to you to go to Washington as
quick as you can get there, and have him strung up.”
Barton looked perplexed.
“It would be rather hard to arrange,” he said, “and would attract
attention that might prove embarrassing. Then, too, it might be very
hard to pin anything on Rich with the evidence we have at present.
He’s so clever, and so well entrenched, he can probably work all kinds
of alibis. I think perhaps the best policy is just to keep the lid on
tight out here, and not let any strategic messages go out to
Washington at all.”
“But he may have other men like Long planted here in the fleet with
all kinds of secret methods of sending messages in code,” said Evans.
“It’s too dangerous to let a man like that stay where he can function
as the brains of the whole intrigue. We don’t know how he may contrive
to cripple us. If he gets on to the secret of Wellman’s code book
we’ve lost a weapon worth many ships. As to evidence, I’ll bet I can
get some information straight from headquarters through Kendrick and
Heringham.”
Barton shook his head.
“I wouldn’t,” he said. “Sending names of persons, even disguised in as
good a code as yours, involves a terrible risk.”
“It’s a terrible risk if we don’t,” said Evans earnestly. “We are
staking the whole war on our naval strategy, and what will all our
strategy avail with a thing like this at the heart of our
communication system in Washington? Every bit of evidence we can get
may be needed to dislodge him. The risk of leakage in communicating
with Heringham is nothing to the risk of leaving Rich where he is.”
Barton thought awhile.
“You are right,” he said at last. “Send your message to Heringham and,
when we hear from him, I’ll see whether it’s best to go to Washington,
or what to do.”
Once more Evans tested a transmitter. For twenty-four hours he waited,
on pins and needles, and during those twenty-four hours both Kendrick
and Heringham lost some sleep, too; also some one in Constantinople
who knew how to make Bela talk did so. The return message which Evans
deciphered from the radio traffic at Gibraltar caused him to go to
Barton and urge on him more insistently than ever the importance of
his going at once to Washington. Thereupon Barton made a call on
Captain Fraser, and in consequence of this call some unusual orders
were drawn up and signed.
The same day as the conference with Barton which resulted in the
message to Heringham, Evans happened to pass Ensign Coffee on the deck
of the flagship _Delaware_. Coffee glared savagely at him, realizing
that, though he did not know why or how, some power above himself had
caused the punishment he had sought to inflict on this insubordinate
warrant officer to be so mitigated as to amount to little or nothing.
At least, here he was walking the deck as freely as ever, but four
days after his attempt to jump ship, when he should by rights still be
confined to his room, if not in irons.
“That reminds me,” said Evans to himself, “that there’s one more bit
of house-cleaning needed on this ship. I’d better attend to that now
before I forget it.”
He knew that his agents in the Bureau of Engineering were now able to
handle his messages to Mortimer; so he went to the radio room and once
again “tested a transmitter.” With his hand on the key he made the
cryptic dots and dashes which the powerful transmitter translated into
silent ether waves speeding across the sea, while the operator on
watch sat listlessly by, waiting for him to finish.
“The gear’s working well,” said Evans; then rising, handed the
head-phones back to the operator, and returned to his room, where he
got out some warm clothing and made ready for a long journey on which
he must travel light.
The next morning in Washington Rand transmitted to Secretary Mortimer
the following message:
Get Ensign J. L. Coffee transferred as far away from
flagship as possible. Can recommend him wherever red-tape
is needed. E.
Later in the day Evans was talking things over with Elkins in the
radio room, when a yeoman from the coding room handed Elkins a
dispatch. He opened it and read:
Detach Ensign Coffee to proceed immediately to Washington,
report Bureau Navigation.
Elkins handed the dispatch to Evans, saying, “I wonder what in hell
they want him in Washington for.”
“That’s an interesting matter for speculation,” said Evans, and went
about his work.
When Coffee received his orders, he was in the act of boasting to some
of the other ensigns of the way he had carried out the instructions of
no less an official than Commander Rich to squelch insubordination in
the warrant officers under him, should he see any. He was telling how
he was getting that man Evans to toe the mark, and how he was going to
give him some more medicine before he got through. His jaw fell when
he read the dispatch. The other ensigns tittered.
“Save your medicine for some one else, Coffee,” said one.
“Be sure you don’t swallow any of it yourself, by mistake,” said
another.
Coffee, however, though profoundly chagrined, soon convinced himself
that there must be an important mission awaiting him in Washington.