THE BOMB RUSE.
At Wallace’s suggestion, the detective promised to occupy the empty
house next door to Grantley’s under an assumed name, moving in openly,
as an ordinary tenant would do.
The plan was carried out with comparatively little delay, and Patsy was
chosen because he was married and could bring his wife along to give an
air of domesticity to the establishment.
The “Webbs” had moved in ten days before; their furniture having been
carefully selected in different secondhand stores of the better class.
Charles Webb, the “father,” went downtown every day, but it was
understood in the neighborhood that “Will” was temporarily out of work.
That explained why he remained at home all day.
A close but secret watch had been kept on the doctor’s house, and its
regular occupants had been studied as thoroughly as possible under the
circumstances.
Doctor Siebold, Grantley’s assistant, had proved to be a man in his
early thirties, evidently of German descent, whose keen, searching eyes
seemed to belie his too agreeable expression and his suave manners.
Kate Rawlinson, the nurse, seemed to be thoroughly efficient, as she
must have been to please Doctor Grantley; but her face, which was rather
good looking, in a pinched, tight-lipped way, had a hard, forbidding
expression, which warned one not to look to her for much human sympathy,
to say the least.
As for Hoff, the German servant, Nick found it easy to agree with
Wallace that he had been a soldier. He was fully six feet in height,
powerfully built, with a scarred face, keen blue eyes, and a sandy
mustache, the points of which were trained rakishly upward, after the
model of his emperor’s.
Of the lot, he was the only one who seemed likely to give much trouble
in a physical encounter, if it came to that. Siebold was slight and wore
glasses, and Doctor Grantley himself, while undoubtedly strong and wiry,
did not impress one as a fighting man.
That remained to be seen, however.
It was Hoff who always answered the door, and he did it with an air of
suspicion and a brusqueness which suggested a sentry on duty.
Little real progress had been made by the detectives, despite their
vigilance. They had discovered that Wallace was correct in saying that
patients who seemed to be in humble circumstances were frequently
brought to Doctor Grantley’s, or came of their own accord, and they had
verified Wallace’s report that several young men, obviously doctors,
frequented the place, but that had only been ascertained after a tedious
wait.
For the first few days after the Webbs moved in, there appeared to be
little activity next door, probably because Doctor Grantley was more or
less suspicious, in a general way, of the newcomers, whose presence he
doubtless resented.
He would naturally have waited to see if they were going to show any
embarrassing interest in his doings. Their apparent inclination to
attend strictly to their own affairs, however, seemed to reassure him.
Shrewd as he was, he did not dream of the watch which was being
maintained, day and night, over his house.
Presently his attitude of caution relaxed, and things went on as they
had been going. Nevertheless, with all their advantages, Nick and his
assistant were not in a position to draw any very definite conclusion
for some time, and in the end they were little the wiser.
They decided that they would have to resort to some more active method
of getting the evidence they desired. Many different plans were
discussed and rejected. In the meantime, two of Nick’s other assistants,
well disguised, were sent to the doctor’s house on different, plausible
errands, but they did not succeed in penetrating it far enough to learn
anything of value.
Furthermore, although the windows of the Webb house were left open night
and day, no sounds suggestive of torture were heard, and whatever went
on in the private hospital must have been well cloaked and unaccompanied
by any excitement.
Nick and Patsy finally determined upon a ruse. They had learned enough
to know that the house was carefully guarded by the watchful Hoff, who
prowled around at all hours. Besides, they wished to gain access to it
when the young doctors were there, for it was reasonable to suppose that
at such times the most important experiments took place, whatever their
nature might be.
But with five or six extra men in the house, in addition to its regular
occupants, the chances for secret entrance were decidedly slim, to say
nothing of the likelihood that the investigators could get into
position to witness the proceedings.
Therefore, it seemed necessary to wait until the occasion seemed as
promising as possible, and then to force an entrance under cover of some
exciting diversion, which could be counted upon to draw away,
temporarily, the attention of Grantley and his chosen disciples.
It meant a dangerous plunge, for, if it failed to uncover the desired
evidence, for any reason, it would unavoidably reveal to Doctor Grantley
the fact that he was under suspicion. He would be put on his guard in
that case and it would be far more difficult thereafter to trip him up,
even if he was not of the sort to put up a fight or attempt to
retaliate.
Not only that, but there was little likelihood that such a device would
catch the man and his associates in the midst of a punishable crime.
Time was passing, however, and the detective felt it necessary to push
matters. His attention was needed elsewhere, and he made up his mind
that if he could expose Grantley’s methods and show that the eccentric
surgeon was actually engaged in unwarranted experiments on his poor and
obscure patients, public opinion would do the rest and drive the doctor
out of the country, or, at least, force him to give up his questionable
practices.
The newspapers could be counted on to make the most of the sensation,
and it would almost certainly result in the passing of stringent laws
against human vivisection, as well as the unauthorized administration of
various experimental serums in the case of unsuspecting persons,
especially children, of which there had recently been many instances in
New York.
That would be a great step in advance, and it would make possible
Grantley’s subsequent conviction, if legal proof could be obtained in
regard to his past performances, or if he should ever resume such
practices in the State at some future time.
Half a loaf was better than no bread. That was the way Nick looked at
it. Thus far he had tried in vain, by means of numerous inquiries on the
East Side and elsewhere, to find a single instance of a suspicious death
under Grantley’s care. He had little doubt that there were plenty of
cases of that sort, but he had not happened to come across them, and his
time was precious.
Finally, he planned to explode a large bomb in front of his house, by
means of an electrical connection.
The bomb was to be placed in the middle of the street, which was not
extensively used at any time, and Nick counted on the deafening noise of
the explosion to draw the occupants of Grantley’s house into the street,
or, at any rate, away from the operating room.
While they were temporarily absent, Nick and Patsy were to break into
the doctor’s house at the rear and make their way as rapidly as possible
to the operating room, the location of which they had roughly determined
by a process of elimination.
They intended to take with them an expert witness in the person of
Doctor Willis Cooke, a friend of Nick’s and one of the ablest of the
city’s younger surgeons, who was noted for his opposition to vivisection
in almost all of its forms.
In addition to this qualification, Doctor Cooke was a strapping fellow,
an athlete, and a champion trap shooter, who could be depended upon to
give a good account of himself if it came to a fight.
Doctor Cooke’s presence would be important, because he could determine
at a glance the nature of the experiment in progress, whether legitimate
or otherwise, and his testimony would be taken by the public as
authoritative, where Nick’s, not being that of a specialist, might be
open to question.
On the night in question, when Patsy made the observation recorded at
the beginning of the first chapter, the young surgeon was in the room
with the detective and the latter’s assistant.
He had arrived unobtrusively at the Webb house some time before, having
been summoned by Nick when it became clear that something out of the
ordinary was about to take place at the private hospital next door.
A young girl of eighteen or thereabouts, evidently a Jewess, had been
brought there in a taxi by Doctor Siebold that afternoon.
She was noticeably pretty and seemed to be in ill health, although she
had alighted from the machine without assistance. Patsy had witnessed
her arrival and had reported the circumstance to Nick when the latter
put in an appearance about five-thirty.
It looked as if interesting developments might be looked for that night,
and, as the bomb was all in readiness to be planted, Nick decided to
telephone for Doctor Cooke.
By half past eight five men had arrived and been admitted by the
watchful Hoff. The detectives had, of course, no means of knowing that
the pretty Jewess was to be the subject of the night’s experiments, but
it seemed probable. In any event, there was something of more than
ordinary interest scheduled.
Nick waited until nine o’clock to see if any others would arrive. One
did, about a quarter of nine. He was obviously in a hurry, which
indicated that he was late.
When another fifteen minutes passed, without incident, Nick inferred
that no others were coming. He decided to delay still longer, though,
for he wished to give Grantley time to get to work.
The delay might mean a great deal to the victim of the vivisectionists,
but that, unfortunately, could not be helped. It would do no good to
break in prematurely, for, unless an operation of some questionable kind
was in progress when the interruption came, nothing would be gained, and
Doctor Grantley would be justified in taking legal action against the
intruders.
But when nine-fifteen came, the tender-hearted detective could stand the
suspense no longer.
“Heaven knows what may be happening to that poor girl--or some one
else!” he exclaimed. “See if the coast is clear, Patsy.”
The street was deserted, and Nick’s assistant slipped out and placed the
bomb at a sufficient distance from the two houses to prevent any
material damage.
A small electric wire was attached to it in such a way that the
explosion would free it and allow it to be drawn quickly into the house
as soon as it had done its work.
Nick and Patsy were armed, although they did not look for any resistance
of the kind in which there would be gun play, and the detective had
supplied Doctor Cooke with an automatic.
They would be greatly outnumbered, of course, if Grantley and the others
returned to the operating room and found them there, which they fully
expected. Therefore, it was well to be on the safe side, despite the
fact that they did not look for weapons in the hands of any of the
surgeons.
Patsy’s wife was instructed to rush out of the house immediately after
the explosion, to pretend to be greatly mystified and terrorized, and to
say that her husband and father-in-law were both downtown.
In that way it was hoped that any suspicions Grantley might have would
be nipped in the bud for the time being, and that pretty “Mrs. Webb’s”
distress would delay the return of the doctors to the house.
The electric wire was a long one, extending from the bomb in the street
through one of the open front windows, and so to a concealed battery.
Nick and his two companions took their places in the back yard, under
cover of the fence separating Grantley’s grounds from theirs.
Nick and Patsy carried burglars’ tools, so as to be ready for a quick
entry.
The seconds dragged by.
Boom!
An ear-splitting report rent the air.
Adelina had fired the bomb and was doubtless drawing in the wire,
preparatory to running out and playing the other part assigned to her.
Without a second’s delay the two detectives swarmed over the fence and
ran silently toward the rear of the private hospital, with Doctor Cooke
close at their heels.