THE RED LIGHT
For a time no one in the room moved. Cole was both amused and puzzled
by the hostile glances leveled in his direction. The attitude of The
Unknown Seven had changed from friendliness to suspicion, with an
abruptness that was almost ludicrous. Miss Brown’s reference to a red
light seemed to have turned them against him in a twinkling.
He could not understand. He looked at the spokesman as if expecting an
explanation. Now, with the lights on and the mask removed, Cole thought
there was something familiar about his face. It was hewn on rather
rough lines, suggestive of a man of great strength and determination.
The iron-gray hair curled a little. The mouth was firm and gave a trace
of harshness to the face. The eyes, arched by upslanting brows, were
clear and cold.
Just now those eyes were gazing fixedly at Cole. There was the faintest
suspicion of a threat in them, he thought. He pondered for a moment,
arranged a few scattered recollections, and then the man’s name came to
him. He was Grover Carlin, a criminal lawyer of high standing and great
ability. Cole had once heard him make a masterly address to a jury.
Only a few moments had passed since Miss Brown had made her breathless
announcement. Now one of the seven men sprang toward the door, and the
others followed. Cole and Carlin, walking side by side, brought up the
rear. The foremost of the procession opened a door across the hall, and
the others tumbled in after him. It was a large room, filled with desks
and filing cases, but the first thing that caught Cole’s eye was a
globe of glass in which a red light was flashing at intervals of a few
seconds.
“What does it mean?” he asked Carlin.
The lawyer gave him a sharp glance. “It means that a stranger is coming
up the elevator,” he announced shortly.
“Why a stranger? Couldn’t it be one of your own men?”
“No. When our own men enter the private elevator they always throw a
lever which prevents the light from flashing. The red light is a danger
signal. The elevator is an automatic one, and it is impossible for a
stranger to operate it unless he is acquainted with the mechanism. Our
visitor must have got the hang of it, somehow. Mr. Cole, you are the
only outsider who has been inside this establishment in weeks.”
“Am I to infer that I am under suspicion?”
“Well, it looks rather queer.”
Smiling, Cole watched the flickering red in the glass globe. “But you
admitted yourself that I am a twenty-four-carat man.”
The other nodded. “Yes, I know, but——”
“Perhaps you suspect I arranged to have myself followed here this
evening?”
“Such a thing is conceivable.”
“But the rest isn’t very practicable. I never saw the elevator, much
less learned how to operate it. I was blindfolded both times I came up
in it.”
“True, but you are a very clever man, Mr. Cole. Your performance of
last night proved that. And the fact remains that you are the only
stranger who has been inside this establishment in a long time.”
The red flashes had ceased. Cole looked about him. Several of the men
were glowering at him, while Miss Brown regarded him with a look of
doubt and vague disappointment.
“What about the former executive you mentioned, the man who betrayed
you?” he asked. “Isn’t it possible that he is up to deviltry of some
kind?”
Carlin shook his head. “The mechanism has been changed since he left
us. Besides, he would know enough to turn the lever to prevent the
light from flashing. It will be interesting to see whether our visitor
knows how to operate the sliding panel in the wall. If he does, you
will presently see a green light in the indicator.”
It was evident that the lawyer was trying to be fair and withhold
judgment, but Cole could see he was an object of grave doubt. The
others in the room were intently watching the indicator, but now and
then they glanced darkly at Cole. Several of them seemed loath to
suspect him, and among them was Miss Brown; but apparently they could
think of no other explanation for the mysterious intrusion than that he
had played false with them.
Like the others he fell to watching the glass globe. The ceasing of
the red flashes seemed to indicate that the intruder had reached the
top floor. Perhaps at this very moment he was searching for the hidden
spring that controlled the panel in the wall. Cole felt a tingling
suspense as he waited to see whether a green light would appear in the
indicator.
“What can the fellow hope to gain by coming here?” he asked Carlin.
The lawyer gave him a searching glance, as if not quite sure that the
question had been asked sincerely. “A lot,” he said dryly. “There
are papers in our files, evidence in the form of memoranda and legal
documents, that certain parties would be willing to pay a great price
for.”
“But doesn’t he realize that you won’t give them up without a fight?”
“Usually only the watchmen are here as late as this.” The lawyer gave
Cole another dubious glance out of his cold eyes. “To-night and last
night we have been holding special sessions on your account. Probably
our unbidden visitor doesn’t know that. If he is hoping that he will
have only a couple of watchmen to deal with, there will be a surprise
waiting for him as soon as he gets through the wall, if he does get
through.”
Evidently the intruder was having difficulties. For several minutes the
indicator had been blank, but the glances of those in the room were
drawn to it as to a magnet.
Cole’s eyes traveled over the oddly assorted company. A few feet in
front of him stood a retired financier, a multimillionaire, who had
once been a power in Wall Street, and whose money was being used
unsparingly to fight corruption and vice. A little to one side was a
philanthropist whose annual benefactions mounted into eight figures.
Three or four of them were strangers to him, and among these was the
surgeon, whose tall figure Cole easily recognized despite the fact that
he had worn a disguise on the other occasions.
His mind was active while he studied the faces about him. Would the
green light flash on the indicator? Who was the intruder, and was
Carlin right in the surmise that the documents in the filing cases
were the object of the mysterious visit? For a thief to sneak into an
establishment of this kind looked like a piece of foolhardy daring
to Cole. There were nine of them in the room, including Miss Brown
and himself, and no doubt agents and operatives of The Unknown Seven
were within calling distance. There was a lively tussle ahead of the
prowler, if he should succeed in getting through the wall.
Ten minutes had passed since the red flashes stopped. Cole was
beginning to think that the intruder had met insuperable obstacles.
Perhaps he had in some manner learned how to operate the elevator, but
had failed to familiarize himself with the mechanism that controlled
the sliding panel in the wall. All the while, as these speculations ran
through Cole’s mind, he felt that Carlin was watching him out of the
tail of an eye.
“Aren’t you a bit hasty in turning to me with your suspicions?” he
asked good-naturedly. “I may be a twenty-four-carat man, but I am not a
worker of miracles, and I’d have to be one in order to ferret out your
secrets on such short acquaintance. What about your hired agents?”
“I trust them as I trust myself. They have been tested and found true.”
Cole smiled engagingly. “Your experience with the renegade executive,
whom you told me about, should have warned you that tests aren’t always
conclusive. Human nature is about as uncertain as April weather.”
Carlin gave an assenting nod, but the argument did not seem to
influence him greatly.
“How will you dispose of the rascal if he gets through?” was Cole’s
next question.
“That’s a problem. Our success so far has been due largely to the
secrecy with which we have surrounded ourselves. We have nothing to
fear, and no great harm would be done if we should be found out, but we
prefer to continue to work in the dark. So far our absconding executive
seems to have kept his mouth closed, for nothing has leaked out about
us. No doubt he is so busy spending his thirty pieces of silver that
he has no time for gabbling. Besides, the scoundrel has a wholesome
respect for us. He knows that The Unknown Seven has a long arm and a
sturdy fist. If this fellow,” with another glance at the indicator,
“should get through the wall, we shall have to take measures to protect
our privacy. If we find that he has the right stuff in him we may even
invite him to join us.”
Another five minutes passed. Some in the group showed signs of
restiveness. One of them suggested going out and collaring the
prowler, but Carlin vetoed the idea, declaring it would be better to
give the fellow a chance to show his hand.
The group resumed its silent waiting. A question occurred to Cole, one
that he had been on the point of asking when Miss Brown’s entrance
interrupted the conversation in the other room.
“How is Mr. Reeves?” he inquired.
Carlin waited for several moments before he answered. “There has been
no change in his condition in the past twenty-four hours,” he finally
announced.
“He is still here?”
The lawyer nodded. He did not seem very communicative on that subject.
“You know, of course,” Cole went on, “that it isn’t in strict
accordance with the law for you to keep him here?”
A thin smile twisted Carlin’s lips, but his only response was a shrug.
“My duty to my clients gives me an interest in the matter,” Cole
pointed out. “You are keeping Mr. Reeves a prisoner.”
“By no means. Mr. Reeves is our guest, and so far he has not voiced
any objections.” He gave a grim chuckle. “Furthermore he is infinitely
better off here than where we found him. He would probably have been
dead by this time if we hadn’t taken him away.”
“From where?”
The lawyer’s wintry gaze rested for an instant on his face. “From the
residence of Professor Carmody, as you probably either know or can
readily guess.”
“You kidnaped him?”
“Call it that if you like. We saved Mr. Reeves from certain death.
Professor Carmody is the only one who has cause for feeling aggrieved
at what we have done.”
Cole nodded thoughtfully. He had kept Carmody under observation for
some time, and of late he had noticed a change in him. He understood
now why the professor had seemed excited and ill at ease the last few
days. His comings and goings had been more frequent and there had been
several signs of something unusual on foot about the house on Bleecker
Street.
“So that you may feel quite reassured in the matter,” Carlin went on,
“let me tell you that Mr. Reeves is under excellent care. A specialist
is studying his condition, and there’s a chance, though a very remote
one, that he may recover his mental faculties, wholly or in part. If he
does, I fancy he will have a very entertaining story to tell.”
He looked sharply at Cole just then, as if trying to measure the effect
of his words, but Cole’s face showed nothing but deep thought. He had
obtained a glimpse into the working methods of The Unknown Seven, and
he had found fresh proof of the efficiency and the resources of the
organization. A splitter of hairs might not have found its methods
strictly legal, but there was such a thing as the end justifying
the means. Quite likely Carlin was right in saying that Reeves had
been rescued from certain death at the hands of Professor Carmody.
Probably, too, a great deal more could be accomplished by this informal
course of procedure than by strict adherence to the letter of the law.
Cole was so deeply impressed that for the moment he forgot that he was
under suspicion.
“If Reeves ever tells his story, I’d like to be there,” he declared.
“You may have an opportunity to do so,” dryly remarked the lawyer.
“Until we have satisfied ourselves on one or two little points we shall
have to ask you to remain here as our guest. In the meantime——”
A medley of mutters and hushed exclamations interrupted him.
Instinctively Cole glanced at the indicator. A tongue of green flame
was shooting up and down in the glass globe. Fascinated, he watched the
darting flashes.
“Get back!” ordered Carlin, waving a hand at the men who stood huddled
into a knot before the indicator. In his other hand gleamed the barrel
of a pistol. Cole admired the ease and coolness with which he was
taking charge of the situation. Following the direction of his pointing
finger, the men crowded into a corner of the room. Miss Brown followed
them, and, as she crossed the floor, she gave Cole a glance that
stabbed within him.
Carlin touched a button; the room went dark. Keeping Cole close at his
side he took up a position a few feet in front of the others. “I must
warn you not to move,” he whispered in Cole’s ear.
“Have no fear,” Cole whispered back. “I’m as anxious to see this
through as you can possibly be.”
The lawyer’s strategy was simple. If the intruder’s aim was to get
hold of some of the documents in the filing cases he would probably
come straight to this room. The fact that he had mastered the mechanism
of the elevator and the hidden door seemed to indicate that he was
fairly well familiar with the lay of the establishment. Evidently the
lawyer’s plan was to catch him red-handed and take him by surprise.
Cole was conscious of a growing disquietude as he stood beside the
lawyer, looking in the direction of the door through which the intruder
must pass. He had a hazy feeling that Carlin’s plan was too simple, but
he could not tell exactly what was wrong with it. Not a sound was heard
in the room. The door had been left open a crack, and a narrow wedge of
light filtered in, but most of the room was an impenetrable blur.
A minute passed. In vain Cole strained his ears to catch the sound of
approaching footsteps. His uneasiness grew, but he could not understand
why. As if his misgivings had been communicated to the lawyer, the
latter mumbled something under his breath. The moments flew, and still
no sound was heard in the corridor. Either the intruder’s footfalls
were thoroughly muffled, or else——
Cole did not finish the thought. A vagrant suspicion held his senses
spellbound. For a moment longer he listened for footfalls that did not
come, and then his vague apprehensions crystallized in a flash. He
gripped the lawyer’s arm so violently that Carlin gasped.
“You were wrong!” he whispered hoarsely. “The fellow isn’t after any
papers. He came here to get Reeves.”
Cole, with his hand tightly gripping Carlin’s arm, felt a sudden shock
shooting through the man at his side. In a twinkling the lawyer seemed
to have grasped his meaning. Now, muttering something, he sprang
forward. In an instant the lights were on again, and Carlin was running
toward the door. Cole followed, but in a moment the two men came to a
dead stop.
A short, piercing cry sounded. It died abruptly, leaving a curious
emptiness in the air. The two men stared at each other, and Cole saw a
gray film creep over the lawyer’s face.
“Too late!” he exclaimed.