WHERE THE VOICE LIVED
"Open it," said the colonel in a low voice; "open it, Crewe"--he pulled
open the drawer and took out something--"and if it is Jack o'
Judgment----"
Crewe opened the door, his heart beating at a furious rate, but it was
Selby who came into the room and faced the half-levelled gun of the
colonel.
"What do you want?" asked Boundary quickly. "You fool, I told you not to
lose sight of her----"
"But when is she coming down?" asked Selby. "I've been waiting there all
this time and there's a policeman at the corner of the street--I
wondered whether you had seen him too."
"Not come down?" said the colonel. "She left here five minutes ago!"
"She hasn't come down," he said, "and I've certainly not passed her on
the stairs. Is there any other way out?"
"No way that she could use," said the colonel shaking his head. "I've
had new locks put on all the doors." He thought a moment. "If she hasn't
come down she's gone up."
They went up the stairs together and searched, first Pinto's flat, and
then the store-rooms and empty apartments on the floor higher up.
"Go down to the door and wait, in case she tries to get out," said the
colonel.
He returned to the room with the two men and they looked at one another
in frank astonishment.
"Have you any idea what's happened, Crewe?" asked the colonel
suspiciously.
"No idea in the world," said Crewe.
"But she went downstairs," said the colonel. "I heard the alarm click."
"The alarm?" questioned Crewe.
"I've got a buzzer under one of the treads of the stairs," said the
colonel. "It is useful to know when people are coming up."
* * * * *
Ten minutes passed and Selby returned to say that the policeman had been
making inquiries as to whom the car belonged.
"You'd better get it away," said the colonel, "and send away your men."
"They've gone," said the other. "I wasn't taking any risks."
He disappeared to carry out the colonel's instructions, and they heard
the whine of the moving car.
Boundary unlocked his tantalus and took out a full decanter of whisky.
Without a word he poured three stiff doses into as many glasses and
filled them with soda. Each man was thinking, and thinking after his own
interests.
"Well, gentlemen," said the colonel at last. "I incline to give this
business best."
He looked up and saw the dagger which Pinto had thrown. It was still
embedded in the wall.
"It isn't enough that I should have Jack o' Judgment messing my room
about," he growled, "but you must do something to the same wall! Pull it
out and don't let me see it again, Pinto."
The Portuguese smiled sheepishly, walked to the wall and gripped the
handle. Evidently the point had embedded in a lath, for the knife did
not move. He pulled again, exerting all his strength and this time
succeeded in extracting not only the knife but a large portion of the
plaster and a strip of the wallpaper.
"You fool!" said the colonel angrily, "see what you have done--Jumping
Moses!"
He walked to the wall and stared, for the dislodgment of plaster and
paper had revealed three round black discs, set flush with the plaster
and only separated from the room by the wallpaper, which had been
stripped.
"Jumping Moses!" said the colonel softly. "Detectaphones!"
He took Pinto's knife from his hand and prised one of the discs loose.
It was attached to a wire which was embedded in the plaster and this the
colonel severed with a stroke of the knife.
"This is the business end of a microphone," he said.
"The voice!" gasped Pinto, and the colonel nodded.
"Of course. I was mad not to guess that," he said. "That's how he heard
and that's how he spoke. Now, we're going to get to the bottom of this."
With a knife he slashed the plaster and exposed three wires that led
straight downward and apparently through the floor. The colonel rested
and eyed the debris thoughtfully.
"What is under this flat? Lee's office, isn't it? Of course, Lee's!" he
said. "I'm the fool!"
He handed the knife back to Pinto, took an electric torch from his
pocket and led the way from the flat. They passed down the half-darkened
stairs to the floor beneath, on which was situated the three sets of
offices. The colonel took a bunch of keys and tried them on the door of
the surveyor's office. Presently he found one that fitted, and the door
opened. He fumbled about for the electric switch, found it and flooded
the room with light. It was a very ordinary clerk's office, with a small
counter, the flap of which was raised. Inside the flap he saw something
white on the floor, and, stooping, picked it up. It was a lady's
handkerchief.
"L," he read. "That sounds like Lollie. Do you know this, Crewe?"
Crewe took the handkerchief and nodded.
"That is Lollie's," he said shortly.
"I thought so. This is where she was when we were looking for her. Here
with Jack o' Judgment, eh? Let's try the inner office."
The inner office was locked, but he had no difficulty in gaining
admission. Inside this was a private office which was simply furnished
and had in one corner what appeared to be a telephone box. He opened the
glass door and flashed his lamp inside. There was a little desk, a pair
of receivers fastened to a headpiece, and a small vulcanite transmitter.
"This is where he sat," said the colonel meditatively, pointing to a
stool, "and this----" he lifted up the earpieces--"is how he heard all
our very interesting conversations. Go upstairs, Pinto, I want to try
this transmitter."
He fixed the receiver to his ears and waited, and presently he heard
distinctly the sound of Pinto closing the door of the room upstairs.
Then he spoke through the receiver.
"Do you hear me, Pinto?"
"I hear you distinctly," said Pinto's voice.
"Speak a little lower. Carry on a conversation with yourself and let me
try to hear you."
Pinto obeyed. He recited something from the Orpheum revue, a line or two
of a song, and the colonel heard distinctly every syllable. He replaced
the earpieces where he had found them, closed the door of the box and
that of the outer office, and led the way upstairs. The whisky still
stood upon the table and he lifted a glass and drained it at a draught.
"If you're a linguist, Crewe, you'll have heard of the phrase: _Sauve
qui peut_. It means 'Git!' And that's the advice I'm giving and taking.
To-morrow we'll meet to liquidate the Boundary Gang and split the Gang
Fund."
He turned his companions out to get what sleep they could. For him there
was little sleep that night. Before the dawn came, he was at Twickenham,
examining a big motor-launch that lay in a boat-house. It was the launch
which should have carried Lollie Marsh and Selby on their river and sea
journey. It was provisioned and ready for the trip. But first the
colonel had to take from a locker in the stern of the boat a small black
box and disconnect the wires from certain terminals before he stopped a
little clock which ticked noisily. He had tuned his bomb to go off at
four in the morning, by which time, he calculated, Lollie Marsh and her
escort would be well out to sea. For the colonel regarded no evidence
that might be brought against him as unimportant.