A point of blue light appeared. A woman spoke. “Yes, Doctor?”
“Tonight’s plans changed. Report to me—immediately. . . .”
At about this time, Brian, chain-smoking in his agitation, was watching Nayland Smith pacing the floor of the room like an English Guardsman on sentry duty. At last, Sir Denis broke his long silence.
“I have chosen my course, Merrick. Heaven grant it’s the right one. Bearing in mind what I mean to do tonight—must do—I doubt if Fu Manchu’ s secret device would be handed over. He has the cunning of the serpent. He takes fantastic risks; but always assures himself of a way out. My explanation to the committee, which I am supposed to give verbatim (the deceased actor was evidently a quick study), would certainly break up the conference.”
“Sure! Just what I was thinking! The meeting tonight——”
“I can’t believe that a man so astute as Dr. Fu Manchu ever intended it to take place. He has changed his plans. He may be laying another trap—he may be preparing to make a getaway! This could only mean that the cunning devil recognized me!”
“Then why didn’t he bump you off when he had you up there in the penthouse?”
“Think again, Merrick,” Sir Denis rapped. “Consider two dead Nayland Smiths on his hands in the Babylon-Lido! No. There hasn’t been time to move the other one. We may lose the secret of the Sound Zone, but, at last, we have Dr. Fu Manchu!”
“What are we going to do?”
Nayland Smith knocked ash from the hot bowl of his pipe.
“I can’t stop the others. That doesn’t matter. But I shall signal the plane bringing your father and the President, and their course will be changed. We don’t know what new devilry may be brewing, and I daren’t risk it. Our best defence is attack.”
He headed for the door.
“What’s my job?” Brian wanted to know.
“We’ll slip down and talk to Ray Harkness. He’s in charge of the F.B.I, engaged on this job. We have worked together before. This double business has shaken him badly. Before I went up tonight we arranged a password—in case the wrong man had survived!”
Chapter
17
Brian saw a smallish, dapper man who might have been an accountant or a bank manager, but couldn’t possibly be a detective, except that it happened he was.
He jumped up as they came in.
“Bamboo!” Nayland Smith greeted (presumably the arranged password). “Virtue triumphed for once in a while, Harkness!”
Raymond Harkness sat down again. “Thank God I see you alive! It was a crazy, and, in my opinion, an unnecessary risk.”
Nayland Smith rested his head on Harkness’s shoulder.
“Your staff work was excellent. Merrick, here, threatened to disturb the plan at a critical moment. But our luck held, and I held on to Merrick. By the way, you haven’t met.”
“No.” Harkness shook hands with Brian, smiling. “But we have wasted a lot of time covering you, Mr. Merrick! For heaven’s sake what happened? Where’s . . . the other one? We knew all the details of the trap, but not what it was planned to do when you walked into it.”
“An expert job of strangling! He never uttered a sound.”
“Good God! They have murdered their own man?” Sir Denis nodded. “What have they done with his body?”
“Still in the room next to ours, I suppose. But if we’re to get the whole gang in the bag I want quick action. You have the list of tenants occupying apartments on our floor?”
Harkness held up a typed sheet. “It’s been impossible, at short notice, to check all of them. But speaking of the room next to yours——”
“No time, now. Look—I’ll tell you what we must do. Hold the elevators on this floor. Instruct operators to tell upcoming passengers to use stairs. There are two elevators but only one stair. Post a good man at the foot of the stair. Order him to direct such passengers to this room. Keep your door open. Tell ‘em what you like, but hold ‘em.”
Harkness raised his eyebrows, but took up the phone and gave these unwelcome instructions to the hotel office, adding, “To go into force as from now.” He hung up, glanced at Nayland Smith. “Well—what about anyone coming down7”
“They must be told to go up again until further notified. Police Department orders. An experienced patrolman in uniform best for stair job.”
Harkness nodded and spoke again on the phone. Then:
‘You’re in charge tonight, Sir Denis,” he acknowledged, “but we’ve worked together before and I like to know what to expect. Do you think it’s a plot against the President?”
“Not against his life, Harkness,” Nayland Smith rapped. “At least, I don’t think so. But in any event he won’t be here. I gave orders a few minutes ago to have his course diverted.”
Raymond Harkness watched Sir Denis with steady eyes.
“Then you believe Fu Manchu is still in Manhattan?”
“I know it.”
“Where?”
“In the penthouse!”
“What!” Harkness sprang up. “Then he’s holding Dr. Hessian! He’s in our hands! What are we waiting for?”
“Go easy!” Nayland Smith smiled his grim smile. “And don’t worry about Dr. Hessian. I’m looking after him!”
Harkness sat down again. “You know, now that I hear you, and see you, I wonder I ever fell for your double! But at the time I was completely sold.”
“So was everybody else. Who but Dr. Fu Manchu could have pulled off such a thing?”
There was a rap on the room door, and a smart-looking police sergeant came in and saluted. Harkness looked up.
“Ah! It’s Sergeant Ruppert. I knew you were detailed for duty here tonight. I want you to mount guard at the foot of the stair to the floor above. Stand on the other side of the door. No need to alarm residents on this floor. Anyone wanting to go up to be directed to this apartment. Make sure they come here, but don’t lose sight of the staircase exit. Anyone coming down to be sent back—anyone. All clear?”
“All ready, sir. But what about the elevators?”
“They’ve been stopped from this floor upward.” Harkness glanced at Nayland Smith. “Anything else?”
“One thing,” Sir Denis rapped. “Jump to it, Sergeant! Every minute counts!” Sergeant Ruppert saluted and ran out. “Any news from Number One, Harkness?”
Raymond Harkness shook his head. “No. Can’t figure it out. She expected to have something to report on the latest move. It could be useful. But not a word. And I can’t locate her. I hope——”
“So do I.” There was a deep sincerity in Nayland Smith’s voice. “She takes risks few men would take—and Fu Manchu is merciless . . . . “
* * *
“How many have you on duty tonight, Harkness?” Nayland Smith asked. “Without Merrick and myself?”
“Eleven. Four F.B.I.s and, on the present occasion, nine police. Four in uniform, including the sergeant, and five plain-clothes men. If I can count Number One, twelve.”
“Assemble them all here. There are seven apartments upstairs, including mine. I want them all searched. You have keys from the management?”
“Here.”
“I’ll take the key of the stair door to the penthouse and the key of the inside door.”
Harkness passed over three keys. “There are two doors to the penthouse,” he explained. “The second I believe opens into a kitchen.”
“And now, can you lend Merrick a gun?”
“Sure.” Harkness pulled a drawer open and took out a regulation police revolver. “It isn’t easy to carry, Mr. Merrick, but it’s practical.”
“Thanks.”
Brian put the heavy weapon in a coat pocket. He didn’t know what was going to happen, but the more exciting it turned out to be the better he would like it. He needed an antidote to his mood of angry self-contempt.