“Sometimes they get better. There is still hope for your son.”
“I am asking because we received a phone call tonight,” continued Mrs. Garwick. “Some one claimed he could cure our boy.”
The Secret Agent’s pulse quickened. This was what he had hoped for! The hideous criminals had made their second move — had gotten in touch with the family of their victim.
Mr. Garwick spoke harshly.
“I told you, Stella, that man was a quack! He was too mysterious — refused to give even his name. I don’t trust him. The city is filled with quacks. They are opportunists who would use this time to make money.”
“What do you think, Doctor Roeber?” Mrs. Garwick’s eyes held appeal.
Roeber’s reply wasn’t hopeful. He shrugged. “I don’t know. I cannot say. We medical practitioners seem to be helpless against encephalitis. It is true that the little Vorse girl has been recovering, but who can say what caused it?”
“Then you don’t think I ought to have called in this man?”
“Of course not!” said her husband harshly. “If our own doctors can do nothing, why should we put any faith in a stranger who will not even give his name?”
Roeber shrugged again, turned toward the door. “Keep me informed of the patient’s condition. I will do all I can. Try not to worry.”
Agent “X,” in his role of Preston, lingered after the other had gone. A notebook was in his hand. He appeared to be what he claimed, a representative of the governor. He spoke with sudden urgent authority.
“This phone call, Mr. Garwick — tell me all about it!”
“It was from a quack, I say — and an unscrupulous one, too. I wouldn’t dicker with him. He made some preposterous claim that for a large sum of money he could cure David. I do not believe it.”
“I wanted him to try it,” said his wife. “I am ready to try anything — spend any amount of money.”
“So am I,” said Garwick hoarsely. “It isn’t money that’s stopping me. But I won’t risk David’s one chance of recovery by placing him in the hands of some fraud. The boy’s heart is weak!”
“Yes!” gasped Mrs. Garwick with terror in her eyes. “Even the shock of being attacked by that terrible ape was almost enough to—”
AGENT “X” spoke emphatically. “It will sound strange,” he said, “coming from a doctor. But I believe you made a mistake, Mr. Garwick. Remedies are sometimes found in strange places. This man who called may have a genuine cure.”
Mrs. Garwick’s eyes brightened. “That is what I said! Oh Victor, let’s—”
Her husband looked troubled. “You mean to say you think I should have agreed to his proposal?”
“X” studied the man intently. He wanted to speak freely — wanted to warn these people of what threatened them and the whole of Branford. But they were on the verge of hysteria — in a horror of uneasiness at the mere thought of entrusting their son to a stranger whose very mysteriousness made him seem sinister. If they knew the actual viciousness of the people with whom they must deal they would be certain to refuse to go through with it.
And go through with it they must. Not only to save the frail spark of life in their stricken son, but because now was the chance to get into actual contact with the extortionists. If they arranged for the delivery of David, Agent “X” could wait and follow. His voice became more emphatic, quietly reassuring.
“Doctors try everything in treating a dangerous disease, Mr. Garwick. You must be ready to try anything. If this man telephones again, take my advice and accept his proposal. Do not ask questions. Pay whatever he demands.”
He seemed finally to have convinced them. Mr. Garwick nodded.
“If you recommend it, doctor, I will.”
“Suppose he doesn’t call again!” exclaimed his wife fearfully.
“I think he will,” “X” replied grimly. He kept the excitement from his voice as he went on. “If this man has a special cure, he may ask for complete secrecy. Agree to all demands and keep whatever promises you make — with one exception. You must let me know. As a representative of the governor I will be in a position to advise you on every point.”
Garwick reached out and grasped the Agent’s hand.
“I’ll do that. Just let me know where you can be reached. I’ll feel safer anyway if there’s some one in authority backing me up. Thank you for your advice, sir. I feel encouraged, now that there is some definite course of action to take.”
Mrs. Garwick’s white face lighted in an eager smile. “Perhaps it will be the solution to everything! Perhaps in a few days we will have David on the way to recovery, Victor!”
The smile faded from her face suddenly as a hoarse, frightened voice sounded, calling:
“Mrs. Garwick! Mrs. Garwick!”
Agent “X” turned a startled glance toward the stairs.
The nurse who had been with David stood on the upper landing, her face as white as death. She descended slowly, clutching the railing with trembling hands. At the bottom she stood motionless, seeming unable to speak. Mrs. Garwick rushed forward and shook the servant frantically by the shoulders.
“What is it, Kate? What’s happened? Is David worse? Tell me instantly!”
The servant groped for words, clumsily trying to soften the terrible news she had to convey.
“I just looked at him a minute ago, mum. You know David’s heart’s always been bad — ever since he was a little feller, Mrs. Garwick, and now he’s—”
“You mean — you don’t mean—”
The servant nodded in dumb agony — and Mrs. Garwick, with a piercing scream, sank fainting to the floor.
Chapter X
AGENT “X,” watching this tableau, felt his heart almost cease to beat. The death of David Garwick, itself a tragedy, meant double tragedy for him. Just when hope of trailing the criminals seemed closest, just when he had begun to feel he might be able to wrest the suffering city from the grip of this menace, hope was dashed from his hand.
Kate, the servant, bent over Mrs. Garwick, tears streaming from her worn old face. Mr. Garwick turned wildly to “X.” His face was gray.
“You’re a doctor! Maybe Kate’s wrong! Come!”
He turned and bounded up the stairs. “X” followed. But a brief examination of David Garwick showed that the old servant had been right. The young man’s still features showed the marble whiteness of death. There was no pulse. Under the stress of the shock he had received and the ravaging germs of the sleeping sickness, his weak heart had ceased to function.
Garwick was quiet for seconds, his face contorted, his head bowed in the terrible silent grief of a strong man. Then slowly he raised the covers over his dead son’s face.
“I most notify Roeber,” he said dully. “A doctor is no longer needed.”
It was then that Agent “X” spoke, his own voice low and tense.
His fingers clutched Victor Garwick’s arm.
“Don’t call anyone, Mr. Garwick! Wait until you’ve heard what I’ve got to say — and prepare to be profoundly shocked.”
Garwick’s dazed eyes looked into his without any comprehension.
“What is this you’re saying?” asked the stricken man. “You can tell me nothing that will interest me now.”
“X’s” fingers tightened on the man’s arm. “Pull yourself together, Garwick! Other lives may depend upon your doing so. Listen to me! The death of your son was not a natural one. Your son was murdered!”
Victor Garwick seemed to realize slowly what the Agent was saying. He stepped back, groping for the edge of the bed upon which his son’s body lay.
“What madness is this? What are you talking about?” he demanded.
“Just what I said,” snapped the Agent. “David was murdered by human beings who have the cruelty of fiends.”
“Good God, doctor — are you trying to drive me mad? Didn’t he come down with sleeping sickness? Isn’t there an epidemic raging? And didn’t the disease and the shock of the ape’s attack stop his heart?”
“True!” said “X.” “That is all true, Garwick. But hasn’t it ever occurred to you that some things about this epidemic are strange? No — I can see that it hasn’t! The cunning of the criminals has fooled you as it has others, and as it was meant to.
“But I’m telling you now. I am telling you that your son was purposely inoculated with the germs of encephalitis. That he is a victim of one of the most evil extortion rackets I have ever come in contact with.”
“Then why didn’t you warn me when you first came? Why aren’t you calling the police now? Supposing I tell you that I don’t believe a word you say?”
“X” spoke more harshly still. He seemed to tower over Victor Garwick, and he was gazing into the man’s eyes with that strangely compelling look of his, filled with the blazing domination of a powerful will.
“You’ve got to believe me! Listen! Stephen Vorse’s little girl has been cured. And how? By this person you thought was a quack. He called the Vorses, too. They met his demands. He sent his assistants to get the girl. She was taken out of the house in an automobile, treated several times — and she has recovered. The man who telephoned was no quack. He was a member of the criminal ring behind this. He could have cured your son David if the boy’s heart had not been weak. That was why I advised you to follow his instructions if he called again.”
“But you said nothing about all this!”
“No! Would you have let David be placed in his hands if I had? I knew your reactions might jeopardize the boy’s life and put the criminals on their guard. So I advised you without explaining the motives behind it. I wanted to save your son and if possible capture the criminals.”
“And now — it is too late,” said Victor Garwick brokenly.