Anxious now to do anything that would bring the killers of his son to justice, Victor Garwick sprang to a telephone. Agent “X” closed and locked the door of David’s room, then followed the boy’s father. He spoke to a male servant.
“Help me get Mrs. Garwick upstairs at once. I can treat her better there.”
While the master of the house was telephoning his strange order to the broadcasting station, they carried his wife upstairs. Agent “X” dismissed the man who had helped him, then called the old servant, Kate, to his side. A shrewd judge of character, he eyed the woman long and earnestly. She returned his intent gaze without wavering.
“Why do you do nothing for Mrs. Garwick?” she asked the Agent. “I must get back to my patient. Thank God he is all right. But they’ll never forgive me for giving them such a scare.”
Agent “X” laid his hand on the old woman’s arm.
“David is dead,” he said slowly. “You must know the truth. But there is a reason why the others must not know. You’ve been with the boy for years — seen him grow up. You’ve loved him. He was murdered, Kate — I can’t tell you all about it now. But we’re going to try to catch those who killed him. Our success depends on how well you keep our confidence. If you want to see the devils who murdered David brought to justice, go in and stay with him. Guard his door and say nothing of this to a living soul.”
The woman crossed herself. Tears tolled down her wrinkled cheeks.
“I’ll not breathe a word of it. I’ll stay with him, sir, as I did when he was alive, so help me!”
She turned and walked slowly away. Agent “X” knew that he could trust her.
He took out his small vial of restorative fluid and applied it to Mrs. Garwick’s lips. She was on the point of returning consciousness when her husband came slowly back up the stairs. Agent “X” left him to tell her the truth about her son — to explain why they must co-operate with “Doctor Preston.”
He went down the stairway again and turned on the huge radio that stood in the drawing room.
At first, soft-toned jazz issued from it. Then suddenly the music stopped and the announcer’s voice sounded.
“We are interrupting the program for a few moments, friends, to deliver an unusual message. Here it is: ‘Will the man who called River Hill 5407 call again at once. Circumstances have rendered change of decision necessary. Vitally important’.”
Several times the announcer’s precise voice repeated the message. The Secret Agent listened tensely. He knew the message was being heard all over the city of Branford. Wherever there were radios — in homes, restaurants, clubs, places of amusement — people were pausing to listen and wonder at those strange words. Would it, he wondered, reach the ears of the criminals for whom it was intended?
Chapter XI
JAZZ poured from the radio once more. Agent “X” quickly turned it off. He ascended the stairs and knocked at the Garwicks’ door. His battle with the spreaders of the sleeping death had begun. But there were strange details yet to be worked out.
Mr. Garwick admitted him to the room where his wife was sitting on a chaise longue, her face drawn and pale. The manner of both parents of the dead boy showed that they were ready to place complete confidence in Secret Agent “X.”
“Doctor Preston,” said Garwick, “I’ve told my wife everything you told me. She is just as anxious as I am that these murderers be caught.”
“I’ve just heard our call broadcasted,” said “X.” “Unless I am mistaken we won’t have to wait long for results.”
“Suppose the man does call,” said Garwick. “What will you tell him? When his assistants get David, they’ll realize at once that they’ve been tricked. We might conceivably catch them, but the real heads of this crime ring will get away.”
Agent “X” nodded slowly. Garwick, he could see, had a shrewd analytical brain.
“You’re going to be amazed and perhaps skeptical of my plan,” he said softly. “I intend to pose as your son and let the criminals take me away instead.”
“Good God!” Garwick’s exclamation was one of sheer astonishment. “Why, man, you can’t possibly succeed! The criminals must have seen a dozen pictures of my son. His picture has often appeared in the social columns of the Branford papers. You can’t fool them. They’ll only kill you and escape.”
The Secret Agent held up his hand. “I ask you to have faith in me, Mr. Garwick. I know something about disguise. I’m going to gamble that the criminals will think I’m your son.”
“You mean that you’re going to make up as David?” Mrs. Garwick’s voice held a quaver of amazement and disbelief. Her face had grown a shade whiter, too, and “X” sensed that this would mean an added ordeal for her. He spoke gently:
“It’s the only way, Mrs. Garwick.”
“You’ll never succeed!”
Victor Garwick was pacing the floor nervously now, clenching and unclenching his hands. Agent “X” was tense. He couldn’t tell these people about himself; couldn’t reveal that the face they thought was his own was an elaborate disguise. That would shatter the belief in him that he had managed to create.
“Let’s go downstairs,” he said. “When this man calls, Mr. Garwick, I want you to let me answer him. The thing is too close to you. Your emotion might give you away. Let me make whatever arrangements are necessary.”
“But supposing,” said Garwick, “this man is some one who knows me — some one who would recognize my voice! A strange voice answering for me would cause suspicion at once and wreck all our plans.”
Agent “X” faced the two. There was a strange gleam in his eyes. His lips moved. “This is Victor Garwick speaking,” he said. “Yes, I sent out the radio broadcast tonight. I am willing to consider your offer now. My son is—”
Mrs. Garwick gasped and clutched her husband’s arm. She stared at Agent “X” with baffled wonder in her eyes. Mr. Garwick seemed speechless with amazement, then said slowly:
“I see! You have a most remarkable power of mimicry, Doctor Preston!”
The Agent eyed the man closely, to see if there was any hint of suspicion in Garwick’s gaze. He was relieved to find there nothing but admiration.
“If I hadn’t seen his lips move,” said Mrs. Garwick, “I should have been certain it was you speaking, Victor. I didn’t believe such things were possible.” She turned away. “You go downstairs with the doctor so you’ll be near the telephone. I–I’m going to stay with David for a while.”
As Mr. Garwick descended the stairs with the Agent, his manner held a respect that was almost awe. It was as though the trick of mimicry had given him new insight into this strange man’s character. He sensed that there were depths of mystery and power behind the calm face of Doctor Preston.
IN the drawing room, Agent “X” paced up and down. Would or would not the criminals answer the broadcast? They must have a radio. News of the epidemic had been sent out from time to time. It was almost certain they would want to use every possible means of keeping in touch with all that was going on in Branford.
He glanced at his watch. It was after ten now. The hours since his car had been run off the bridge had been filled with excitement. The hours of the night that still remained promised to be even more strenuous. If his plan succeeded, he would before long establish contact with the cleverest band of criminals he had ever run into.