Harkness was puzzled. He could not understand. He was a man who had few friends and no enemies.
An architect by profession, a portrait painter by desire, he had lived very much apart from the world. He could see no menace behind this visit; at the same time, he detected a very definite threat.
“We want to talk to you,” continued the big man, in a growling voice. “Before we begin, we want you to understand one thing. You’re to keep your mouth shut about this! Is that plain?”
Harkness nodded.
“We don’t want questions from you,” the man went on. “No monkey business, either. We mean business and it’s our business. Keep that in your head.
“Don’t try anything after we go away. No calling the cops. If you do — well, we’ve heard that you don’t look for trouble. But you’ll find it if you try to double-cross us! Get me?”
“Your meaning is quite evident,” returned Harkness. “It appears that you require information. Under the circumstances, I am inclined to furnish you with it — provided that I know what it is—”
“And you don’t blab about it! Understand?”
“You may consider this a confidential interview,” replied Harkness, with a wry smile. “I am at a loss to understand why you have come here—”
“We’ll tell you that,” interrupted the big man. “Let me do the talking. You do the answering.”
He paused to shift his position. He found a chair and sat down close to Richard Harkness, thrusting the gun forward until it was uncomfortably close to the architect’s body.
The smaller man did not move. He had been standing like a statue, his automatic constantly in readiness. He remained in the same position.
“YOU were a friend of a man named Theodore Galvin,” stated the big man in his low growl. “Is that right?”
“I knew Theodore Galvin,” replied Harkness.
“You worked for him, didn’t you?”
“He employed my services as an architect.”
“All right. Did he ever get you to do anything phony for him?”
“Phony?”
“You know what I mean! Did he have you make up special plans for buildings? Put in places that people wouldn’t know about — like a secret room, for instance?”
“Practically all the buildings that I designed for Mr. Galvin,” said Harkness, “were modern office buildings. They were intended purely for commercial purposes—”
“That’s enough. Answer my question!” The gun muzzle pressed against the architect’s ribs. “Were there any phony places in them?”
Harkness shook his head solemnly. He stared coldly at the man before him. He sought to fathom the face behind the mask.
The automatic drew away; then it stopped.
“You’re going to talk” — a sullen laugh came from the handkerchief that covered the speaker’s face — “because we mean business.
“There’s a place we’re looking for. You know where it is. If you don’t tell us, it will be curtains for you!”
“I have designed many buildings,” Harkness declared. “I would remember any unusual plans such as you suggest. The buildings that I designed for Theodore Galvin were simply office buildings. I shall have to consult my office records to give you a list of them—”
“Listen now” — the voice meant business — “and quit this stalling. When old Galvin built that house of his — where did you come in on it?”
“That house was built long before my time,” replied Harkness. He was staring at the automatic. “It is a very old house.”
“Wait, now” — a thought seemed to flash through his mind — “I do recall something. There were some very unusual arrangements in that house—”
He paused and looked sharply at the man before him.
“Go on!” came the order.
“Just a minute.” Harkness felt confident. He knew that the automatic would not fire while he promised revelations. “I’m not inquiring your purpose. I just want to know your attitude toward me.
“I’ll let you know just what you want — and I’ll keep this matter to myself. Does that mean that you’ll stay away from here after this?”
The big man hesitated before making a compromise. At length he made a proposal.
“Give us the straight dope,” he said, “and we won’t bother you any more.”
“All right,” agreed Harkness, in a satisfied tone. “I promised Theodore Galvin to say nothing about the designs I made for his house. In fact, I had forgotten about the matter.
“Galvin is dead now, I understand. So it doesn’t mean anything to me.”
He raised his hands and gestured. “Let me have pencil and paper. I can show you.”
“Wait!” cautioned the big man. “I’ll get them for you. Where are they?”
“Right here.” Harkness motioned to a table at his right side.
THE big man found a large pad in the table drawer. He also brought out a pencil. He gave the articles to Harkness. The architect began to draw a rough plan.
“The cellar stairs are here,” Harkness explained. The big man was watching the drawing; but his companion still covered Harkness. “Here’s a passage. At the side are two steel posts against the wall.
“The posts look like supports. Actually, they are dummies. They can be driven sideways, in opposite directions.
“When that has been done; you will observe that the section of the wall is actually a large door. Behind it is a secret vault — an old, unused compartment of the cellar.”
He handed the pad to the big man.
“Take it,” said Harkness. “That’s what you want.”
“Yeah?” The man laughed. “Is that the only place?”
“Positively,” replied Harkness. “I designed the wall for Theodore Galvin. It was the only special work that he had done in the old house.
“He brought in two men at night to do the work. They didn’t know the location of the house. He brought them in an automobile and sent them away in the same manner.”
The big man studied Harkness. He looked at the plan. There was something in his manner that made Harkness feel the man was satisfied. Yet he made no move to leave.
While Harkness was still wondering, the telephone rang. The big man pounced upon the instrument.
“Hello,” he said. “O.K. It’s in the old house. Yeah. Down the cellar stairs.” He referred to the plan. “Passageway and two posts at the end. Dummies. Hammer them outward. O.K.”
He hung up the receiver.
“So you’ve got a pal,” observed Harkness.
“That’s enough out of you,” declared the big man. “We’ve got a lot you’ll find out about if you don’t keep your mouth shut.
“Maybe I’ll get a few more calls if I stick around a while. So we’ll stay here to keep you company.”
Harkness yawned.
“I had hoped we would part company,” he said. “If you don’t want that pad, you might let me have it. The pencil, too.
“I’ll draw you a diagram of how the door works — you may need it.”
The big man handed him the pad and the pencil. Harkness smiled as he received them. He began to sketch. The big man looked suddenly forward.
“Hey!” His voice was filled with anger. “What’re you drawing there?” He snatched the pad away from Richard Harkness. The pencil dropped beside the chair.
The big man ripped the paper from the pad and tore it. He thrust the pieces in his pocket.
“None of that stuff!” he exclaimed. “Drawing a picture of me, eh? Smart, eh? That’s enough from you. Hand me that pencil!”
HARKNESS reached down to the floor and fumbled for the pencil. His hand came up. It paused an instant by a little compartment in the table — a compartment which had a half-opened door. Then his hand came in view.