“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.
THE Secret Agent’s eyes seemed to gleam like polished steel. His low-spoken words were vibrant. “Too late to save the boy — yes. But not too late perhaps to trace these fiends!”
He stared at Victor Garwick for seconds. The man shook his head.
“I don’t know what you mean. David is dead. If I sent for them now, they would become suspicious at once.”
“Mr. Garwick,” said “X,” “are you willing to help me catch those who killed your son? Are you willing to aid in sending these fiends to prison or the chair?”
Victor Garwick swore harshly and clenched his fists. “If these incredible things you say are true — if my boy was really inoculated — I’ll devote the rest of my life to running down the criminals who did it. Come — we’ll call the police at once!”
Agent “X” held the man with detaining fingers. “You still don’t understand,” he said. “These are no ordinary crooks with whom we are dealing. They are fiends so clever that they’ve been able to hoodwink a whole city. The police cannot cope with them. And, once warned that the law is on their trail, they will escape!”
“What do you advise, then?”
“Follow my instructions. I know what I’m about.”
“You are not a doctor? You are a state detective?”
“It makes no difference what I am. I came to Branford to investigate this thing. Certain odd facts which had escaped others interested me.”
Victor Garwick frowned. “If the police cannot cope with the criminals — how can we hope to catch them? What is your suggestion?”
“This,” said “X” tensely. “The man you thought was a quack must be summoned. He must not know that David is dead. His demands must be met. His price must be paid.”
Victor Garwick sharply withdrew his arm and recoiled away from Agent “X.” A fierce look sprang into his eyes — a look of deep suspicion.
“I — see!” he barked. “You yourself have a motive! You stand to make something out of this! What if I tell you I think you are one of the criminals? You know too much! You want me to pay thousands of dollars to a crook who can do my son no good!”
The Secret Agent’s laugh was short and bitter. “Your suspicion is natural, Garwick. I admit that. But here is concrete proof that I am not trying to get your money. Here’s proof that I am as anxious to catch these fiends as you are.”
“X” reached inside his coat, to a deep inner pocket. He drew out a wallet bulging with bank notes. From it he drew a sheaf of bills, dozens of them, of startlingly high denomination.
“Whatever this man charges,” he said, “whether it’s a thousand, five thousand, ten thousand, or more — I will pay it. Money means nothing to me if I can bring these fiends to justice.”
Victor Garwick stared at the money, then studied the Agent’s determined face. He drew a long breath, and his tense attitude relaxed. A man of affairs, used to dealing in the hard facts of life, this offer was the last thing needed to convince him of the Agent’s integrity.
“I’m sorry, doctor,” he said. “Whoever you really are, whatever your motive, I’m with you. And you can keep your money. It is my son who has — been murdered. All I want to do is help you in any way I can.”
Garwick grasped the Agent’s hand and wrung it. Then he shook his head with a puzzled frown.
“But I don’t understand how you expect to outwit these men by getting them to treat David! They’ll see at once that he is dead!”
Agent “X” spoke rapidly.
“I’ll make my plan clear, Garwick. Wait here a moment.”
“X” hurried downstairs. He had to make sure that no one in the house let news of David Garwick’s death reach the outside world.
Mrs. Garwick was lying on the couch in the living room still unconscious. The servants were bending over her. Agent “X” stopped a maid in the act of reaching for a phone. “Not now!” he said sternly. “I’ll take care of Mrs. Garwick. There is good news. David is not dead. It was only a heart attack!”
The nurse who had reported his death gave a cry of thankfulness. The others burst into excited exclamations. This lie was necessary to keep the news of the young man’s death a secret. It was the only way for “X” to carry out the strange plan he had in mind. He went back upstairs quickly and resumed his talk with the boy’s father.
“The man who phoned must be summoned at once — tonight!” he said. “Before the death of your son is known.”
“How?” gasped Victor Garwick.
“By radio,” snapped “X.” Thorough in everything he did, Agent “X” had investigated Garwick’s social and financial connections together with those of Branford’s other leading citizens. “You are a director on the Branford Broadcasting Company, Garwick. An order from you would clear the air so that a message could be sent out instantly, would it not?”
GARWICK nodded. “Yes, that is true,” he said. “But you said you wanted to keep this thing under cover. Any message we send out will reach everyone in town.”
“Exactly!” agreed the Agent. “But we will word the message so that only the criminals will know what it means.”
Quickly the Agent took out a pencil. “Your telephone number, Garwick?”
“River Hill 5407.”
Agent “X’s” penciled moved swiftly over a piece of paper.
“Will the man who called River Hill 5407 call again at once,” he wrote. “Circumstances have rendered change of decision necessary. Vitally important.”
He handed the note to Garwick, and said swiftly:
“Not even the servants must learn of this — unless we can possibly take the nurse into our confidence. The others must think David is still alive. Call the broadcasting station. Get them to put that message on the air at once. If it does not bring results, we’ll have it repeated.”