you! He is trying to gain time."
"If you beat me," said Wimsey, "I'm damned if I'll speak at all.
Control yourself, madame; it does not do to move hastily when your king
is in check."
"Get on!' she cried again, stamping with rage.
"Where was I? Ah! the inner compartment. As I say, it is a little
snug--the more so that it is not ventilated in any way. Did I mention
that the book lay on a steel shelf?"
"You did."
"Yes. The steel shelf is balanced on a very delicate concealed spring.
When the weight of the book--a heavy one, as I said--is lifted, the
shelf rises almost imperceptibly. In rising it makes an electrical
contact. Imagine to yourself, madame; our revered President steps
in--propping the false door open behind him--he sees the book--quickly
he snatches it up. To make sure that it is the right one, he opens
it--he studies the pages. He looks about for the other objects I have
mentioned, which bear the marks of finger-prints. And silently, but
very, very quickly--you can imagine it, can you not?--the secret panel,
released by the rising of the shelf, leaps across like a panther behind
him. Rather a trite simile, but apt, don't you think?"
"My God! oh, my God!" Her hand went up as though to tear the choking
mask from her face. "You--you devil--devil! What is the word that
opens the inner door? Quick! I will have it torn out of you--the word!"
"It is not a hard word to remember, madame--though it has been
forgotten before now. Do you recollect, when you were a child, being
told the tale of 'Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves'? When I had that door
made, my mind reverted, with rather a pretty touch of sentimentality,
in my opinion, to the happy hours of my childhood. The words that open
the door are--'Open Sesame'."
"Ah! How long can a man live in this devil's trap of yours?"
"Oh," said Wimsey cheerfully, "I should think he might hold out a
few hours if he kept cool and didn't use up the available oxygen by
shouting and hammering. If we went there at once, I dare say we should
find him fairly all right."
"I shall go myself. Take this man and--do your worst with him. Don't
finish him till I come back. I want to see him die!"
"One moment," said Wimsey, unmoved by this amiable wish. "I think you
had better take me with you."
"Why--why?"
"Because, you see, I'm the only person who can open the door."
"But you have given me the word. Was that a lie?"
"No--the word's all right. But, you see, it's one of these new-style
electric doors. In fact, it's really the very latest thing in doors.
I'm rather proud of it. It opens to the words 'Open Sesame' all
right--_but to my voice only_."
"Your voice? I will choke your voice with my own hands. What do you
mean--your voice only?"
"Just what I say. Don't clutch my throat like that, or you may alter
my voice so that the door won't recognise it. That's better. It's apt
to be rather pernickety about voices. It got stuck up for a week once,
when I had a cold and could only implore it in a hoarse whisper. Even
in the ordinary way, I sometimes have to try several times before I hit
on the exact right intonation."
She turned and appealed to a short, thick-set man standing beside her.
"Is this true? Is it possible?"
"Perfectly, ma'am, I'm afraid," said the man civilly. From his voice
Wimsey took him to be a superior workman of some kind--probably an
engineer.
"Is it an electrical device? Do you understand it?"
"Yes, ma'am. It will have a microphone arrangement somewhere, which
converts the sound into a series of vibrations controlling an electric
needle. When the needle has traced the correct pattern, the circuit
is completed and the door opens. The same thing can be done by light
vibrations equally easily."
"Couldn't you open it with tools?"
"In time, yes, ma'am. But only by smashing the mechanism, which is
probably well protected."
"You may take that for granted," interjected Wimsey reassuringly.
She put her hands to her head.
"I'm afraid we're done in," said the engineer, with a kind of respect
in his tone for a good job of work.
"No--wait! Somebody must know--the workmen who made this thing?"
"In Germany," said Wimsey briefly.
"Or--yes, yes, I have it--a gramophone. This--this--_he_--shall be made
to say the word for us. Quick--how can it be done?"
"Not possible, ma'am. Where should we get the apparatus at half-past
three on a Sunday morning? The poor gentleman would be dead long
before----"
There was a silence, during which the sounds of the wakening day came
through the shuttered windows. A motor-horn sounded distantly.
"I give in," she said. "We must let him go. Take the ropes off him. You
will free him, won't you?" she went on, turning piteously to Wimsey.
"Devil as you are, you are not such a devil as that! You will go
straight back and save him!"
"Let him go, nothing!" broke in one of the men. "He doesn't go to peach
to the police, my lady, don't you think it. The President's done in,
that's all, and we'd all better make tracks while we can. It's all up,
boys. Chuck this fellow down the cellar and fasten him in, so he can't
make a row and wake the place up. I'm going to destroy the ledgers. You
can see it done if you don't trust me. And you, Thirty, you know where
the switch is. Give us a quarter of an hour to clear, and then you can
blow the place to glory."
"No! You can't go--you can't leave him to die--your President--your
leader--my--I won't let it happen. Set this devil free. Help me, one of
you, with the ropes----"
"None of that, now," said the man who had spoken before. He caught her
by the wrists, and she twisted, shrieking, in his arms, biting and
struggling to get free.
"Think, think," said the man with the treacly voice. "It's getting on
to morning. It'll be light in an hour or two. The police may be here
any minute."
"The police!" She seemed to control herself by a violent effort. "Yes,
yes, you are right. We must not imperil the safety of all for the sake
of one man. _He_ himself would not wish it. That is so. We will put
this carrion in the cellar where it cannot harm us, and depart, every
one to his own place, while there is time."
"And the other prisoner?"
"He? Poor fool--he can do no harm. He knows nothing. Let him go," she
answered contemptuously.
In a few minutes' time Wimsey found himself bundled unceremoniously
into the depths of the cellar. He was a little puzzled. That they
should refuse to let him go, even at the price of Number One's life, he
could understand. He had taken the risk with his eyes open. But that
they should leave him as a witness against them seemed incredible.
The men who had taken him down strapped his ankles together and
departed, switching the lights out as they went.
"Hi! Kamerad!" said Wimsey. "It's a bit lonely sitting here. You might
leave the light on."
"It's all right, my friend," was the reply. "You will not be in the
dark long. They have set the time-fuse."
The other man laughed with rich enjoyment, and they went out together.
So that was it. He was to be blown up with the house. In that case
the President would certainly be dead before he was extricated. This
worried Wimsey; he would rather have been able to bring the big crook
to justice. After all, Scotland Yard had been waiting six years to
break up this gang.
He waited, straining his ears. It seemed to him that he heard footsteps
over his head. The gang had all crept out by this time....
There was certainly a creak. The trap-door had opened; he felt, rather
than heard, somebody creeping into the cellar.
"Hush!" said a voice in his ear. Soft hands passed over his face, and
went fumbling about his body. There came the cold touch of steel on
his wrists. The ropes slackened and dropped off. A key clicked in the
handcuffs. The strap about his ankles was unbuckled.
"Quick! quick! they have set the time-switch. The house is mined.
Follow me as fast as you can. I stole back--I said I had left my
jewellery. It was true. I left it on purpose. _He_ must be saved--only
you can do it. Make haste!"
Wimsey, staggering with pain, as the blood rushed back into his bound
and numbed arms, crawled after her into the room above. A moment, and
she had flung back the shutters and thrown the window open.
"Now go! Release him! You promise?"
"I promise. And I warn you, madame, that this house is surrounded. When
my safe-door closed it gave a signal which sent my servant to Scotland
Yard. Your friends are all taken----"
"Ah! But you go--never mind me--quick! The time is almost up."
"Come away from this!"
He caught her by the arm, and they went running and stumbling across
the little garden. An electric torch shone suddenly in the bushes.
"That you, Parker?" cried Wimsey. "Get your fellows away. Quick! the
house is going up in a minute."
The garden seemed suddenly full of shouting, hurrying men. Wimsey,
floundering in the darkness, was brought up violently against the
wall. He made a leap at the coping, caught it, and hoisted himself
up. His hands groped for the woman; he swung her up beside him. They
jumped; everyone was jumping; the woman caught her foot and fell with
a gasping cry. Wimsey tried to stop himself, tripped over a stone, and
came down headlong. Then, with a flash and a roar, the night went up in
fire.
* * * * *
Wimsey picked himself painfully out from among the débris of the garden
wall. A faint moaning near him proclaimed that his companion was still
alive. A lantern was turned suddenly upon them.
"Here you are!" said a cheerful voice. "Are you all right, old thing?
Good lord! what a hairy monster!"
"All right," said Wimsey. "Only a bit winded. Is the lady safe?
H'm--arm broken, apparently--otherwise sound. What's happened?"
"About half a dozen of 'em got blown up; the rest we've bagged."
Wimsey became aware of a circle of dark forms in the wintry dawn.
"Good Lord, what a day! What a come-back for a public character! You
old stinker--to let us go on for two years thinking you were dead! I
bought a bit of black for an arm-band. I did, really. Did anybody know,
besides Bunter?"
"Only my mother and sister. I put it in a secret trust--you know, the
thing you send to executors and people. We shall have an awful time
with the lawyers, I'm afraid, proving I'm me. Hullo! Is that friend
Sugg?"
"Yes, my lord," said Inspector Sugg, grinning and nearly weeping with
excitement. "Damned glad to see your lordship again. Fine piece of
work, your lordship. They're all wanting to shake hands with you, sir."
"Oh, Lord! I wish I could get washed and shaved first. Awfully glad
to see you all again, after two years' exile in Lambeth. Been a good
little show, hasn't it?"
"Is he safe?"
Wimsey started at the agonised cry.
"Good Lord!" he cried. "I forgot the gentleman in the safe. Here, fetch
a car, quickly. I've got the great big top Moriarty of the whole bunch
quietly asphyxiating at home. Here--hop in, and put the lady in too. I
promised we'd get back and save him--though" (he finished the sentence
in Parker's ear) "there may be murder charges too, and I wouldn't give
much for his chance at the Old Bailey. Whack her up. He can't last
much longer shut up there. He's the bloke you've been wanting, the man
at the back of the Morrison case and the Hope-Wilmington case, and
hundreds of others."
* * * * *
The cold morning had turned the streets grey when they drew up before
the door of the house in Lambeth. Wimsey took the woman by the arm and
helped her out. The mask was off now, and showed her face, haggard and
desperate, and white with fear and pain.
"Russian, eh?" whispered Parker in Wimsey's ear.
"Something of the sort. Damn! the front door's blown shut, and the
blighter's got the key with him in the safe. Hop through the window,
will you?"
Parker bundled obligingly in, and in a few seconds threw open the door
to them. The house seemed very still. Wimsey led the way to the back
room, where the strong-room stood. The outer door and the second door
stood propped open with chairs. The inner door faced them like a blank
green wall.
"Only hope he hasn't upset the adjustment with thumping at it,"
muttered Wimsey. The anxious hand on his arm clutched feverishly.
He pulled himself together, forcing his tone to one of cheerful
commonplace.
"Come on, old thing," he said, addressing himself conversationally to
the door. "Show us your paces. Open Sesame, confound you. Open Sesame!"
The green door slid suddenly away into the wall. The woman sprang
forward and caught in her arms the humped and senseless thing that
rolled out from the safe. Its clothes were torn to ribbons, and its
battered hands dripped blood.
"It's all right," said Wimsey, "it's all right! He'll live--to stand
his trial."
* * * * *
NOTES TO THE SOLUTION
I.1. VIRGO: The sign of the zodiac between LEO (strength) and LIBRA
(justice). Allusion to parable of The Ten Virgins.
I.3. R.S.: Royal Society, whose "fellows" are addicted to studies
usually considered dry-as-dust.
IV.3. TESTAMENT (or will); search is to be directed to the Old
Testament. Ref. to parable of New Cloth and Old Garment.
XIV.3. HI:
"He would answer to Hi!
Or to any loud cry."
_The Hunting of the Snark._
I.5. TRANS.: Abbreviation of Translation; ref. to building of Babel.
XI.5. SCENT:
"Even the scent of roses
Is not what they supposes,
But more than mind discloses
And more then men believe."
G. K. Chesterton: _The Song of Quoodle_.
VI.7. ICTUS: Blow; add V (five) and you get VICTUS (vanquished);
the ictus is the stress in a foot of verse; if the stress be
misplaced the line goes lamely.
I.8. SPINOZA: He wrote on the properties of optical glasses; also
on metaphysics.
IV.13. THIRTY-ONE: Seven (months) out of the twelve of the sun's
course through the heavens have thirty-one days.
XIV.13. ET: Conjunction. In astrology an aspect of the heavenly
bodies. That Cicero was the master of this word indicates that it
is a Latin one.
X.14. BEZOAR: The bezoar stone was supposed to be a prophylactic
against poison.
11.I. PLAUD: If you would laud, then plaud (var. of applaud);
Plaud-it also means "cheer."
10.II. ALIENA: _As You Like It_. II. 1. 130.
1.III. R.D.: "Refer to Drawer."
4.III. CANTICLES: The Magnificat and Nunc Dimittis are known as the
Canticles, but the Book of Canticles (the Vulgate name for the Song
of Songs, in which the solution is found) occurs earlier in the
Bible.
2.VI. EST: [Greek: 'on kai mê 'on] = _est_ and _non est_--the
problem of being and not-being. Ref. Marlowe: _Doctor Faustus_ I. 1.
12.X. TOB.: Add IT to get Tobit; the tale of Tobit and the Fish is
in the Apocrypha (the book of hidden things).
1.XI. MANES: "Un lion est une mâchoire et non pas une crinière":
Emile Faguet: _Lit. du XVIIe siècle_. Manes: benevolent spirits of
the dead.
1.XV. SAINT: Evidence of miraculous power is required for
canonisation.
THE SOLUTION OF THE CROSS-WORD PUZZLE IN "UNCLE MELEAGER'S WILL."
I | II|III| IV| V | VI|VII|VIII| IX| X | XI|XII|XIII|XIV| XV|
+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+----+---+---+---+---+----+---+---+
1| V | I | R | G | O | | | S | | | M | I | D | A | S |
+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+----+---+---+---+---+----+---+---+
2| E | N | D | I | V | E | | C | | V | A | N | I | T | A |
+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+----+---+---+---+---+----+---+---+
3| R | S | |=T=|=E=|=S=|=T=|=A= |=M=|=E=|=N=|=T=| | H | I |
+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+----+---+---+---+---+----+---+---+
4| S | E |=C=| A | N | T | | R | | L | E | A |=V= | E | N |
+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+----+---+---+---+---+----+---+---+
5| T | R |=A=| N | S | | | L | | | S | C |=E= | N | T |
+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+----+---+---+---+---+----+---+---+
6| | T |=N=| A | | | S | E | G | | | T |=R= | E | |
+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+----+---+---+---+---+----+---+---+
7| | |=T=| | | I | C | T | U | S | | |=S= | | |
+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+----+---+---+---+---+----+---+---+
8| S | P |=I=| N | O | Z | A | | A | U | C | T |=I= | O | N |
+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+----+---+---+---+---+----+---+---+
9| | |=C=| | | E | L | A | N | D | | |=C= | | |
+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+----+---+---+---+---+----+---+---+
10| | A |=L=| T | | | A | D | O | | | F |=L= | U | |
+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+----+---+---+---+---+----+---+---+
11| P | L |=E=| A | S | | | M | | | A | R |=E= | N | A |
+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+----+---+---+---+---+----+---+---+
12| L | I |=S=| T | E | N | | E | | T | W | I |=S= | T | S |
+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+----+---+---+---+---+----+---+---+
13| A | E | |=T=|=H=|=I=|=R=|=T= |=Y=|=O=|=N=|=E=| | E | T |
+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+----+---+---+---+---+----+---+---+
14| U | N | H | O | O | D | | U | | B | E | Z | O | A | R |
+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+----+---+---+---+---+----+---+---+
15| D | A | M | O | N | | | S | | | D | E | R | M | A |
+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+----+---+---+---+---+----+---+---+
_BOOKS BY DOROTHY L. SAYERS:_
THE NINE TAILORS
HANGMAN'S HOLIDAY
WHOSE BODY?
HAVE HIS CARCASE
THE FIVE RED HERRINGS
STRONG POISON
LORD PETER VIEWS THE BODY
THE UNPLEASANTNESS AT THE BELLONA CLUB
THE DOCUMENTS IN THE CASE
(In collaboration with Robert Eustace)
UNNATURAL DEATH
CLOUDS OF WITNESS
GAUDY NIGHT
BUSMAN'S HONEYMOON
IN THE TEETH OF THE EVIDENCE