Dain read all about the affair while traveling to his office. He got back from his Brighton engagement some time after midday and went on from Victoria by tube. He slipped unobtrusively into an end seat and began to read. He wasn't at all elated, or even concerned about the test performance of his new gun sights he has already satisfied himself as to their complete perfection before even getting into communication with the Admiralty.
And then a ghost of a smile played on the corners of his mouth as he took out his pocket-book. The train had stopped at a station and had filled up. There were strap-hangers pressing against his knees ; one succeeded in treading on his feet-- a man with a villainously dirty countenance and ghastly cast in his eye.
Dain looked up in mild remonstrance.
"sorry guv," said the unwashed one and took a fresh grip on his strap.
Dain smiled a frosty acknowledgement and resume his attention to his pocket-book.
"What are you looking so peeved about?" he inquired truculently. "He can't do us no good while he stays alive, cab he?""Not that I'm aware of," said Lyall. "But at the same time, you'll admit there are difficulties. I don't even know that this is the man we're looking for."well, perish my bones!" snorted Tansy. "I saw him with my own eyes, didn't I? saw him pull out his book and write the names down. saw him turn over the pages with 'eaps of other cases wrote down on 'em ; saw him take the names out of the paper and stick 'em down under the silver Arrow. And blimey!----- I saw the writing' , too! You can't get away from that!""Y-yes, I know," said Lyall defensively. "But you also said his name was Dent, and that he has an office in kingsway. That, I know for a positive fact, is untrue.""Is it? Well, maybe you know more about him than I do."There was something more than a note of grievance in Tansy's voice. there w
It was not until nearly ten o'clock that evening that Valmon Dain completed his preparation for the reception of Willard Lyall.He had been working steadily through the afternoon in his workshop out at Hendon. It was a fairly large room, high and airy and was built on to the main building as a sort of an annexe with wide benches on three sides. The bench at the top end was fitted out essentially as a chemical laboratory. Back at the other end, against the door were his writing desk and technical library for Valmon Dain recorded the results of each tiny phase of an experiment as he arrived at it. There were ten great shelves of monumentally scientific times, each a standard work of reference on some aspect of Dain's own activities. In front of them was his desk----a roll top.Dain was sitting at it, writing ; the clock hands neared the hour of ten. His pen jotted neatly over the letter-card. "TO THE CHIEF COMMISSIONER,
suddenly he stiffened. The little disc had blazed to light ."Ah! our visitor is at the garden gate," he said gently . He folded his arms on the desk and his head lolled forward. To all appearances, Valmon Dain had fallen asleep in his chair. But one eye steady and unwinking, stared at the little box on the table waiting for the white light to flash out, telling him that Willard Lyall was at the laboratory door.A face peered in at the window, a face that slid cautiously inch by inch into full view behind the glass. It was Lyall. There was a frown of disappointment on his forehead ; he had not expected to find Dain still up.But the frown gave way to a slow smile of satisfaction when he saw all that was in the room. Fate seemed to have played Dain right into his hands.With a quick All-embracing look, he inspected the interior of the workshop. The face moved from the window, and for a tense, long-drawn-out minutes the
His deep-voiced command rumble through the silent room, but Dain did not move. To the casual eye he was far away in the dream realms of exhausted sleep..Lyall waited a moment or two and then poke him gently in the ribs with the gun-barrel."Valmon Dain----wake up!" he said again, and his voice held something of the relentlessness of the killer in it.Dain stirred uneasily and mumbled something drowsily. Lyall prodded him again, and he raised his head blinking. He started to yawn and peered round, seeming surprised to find himself in the ferocity of the laboratory lights.Then his eyes encountered Lyall. He seemed to see him suddenly and with comic unexpectedness. His yawn stopped slowly. For a moment, his puzzlement increased. a deep wrinkle cutting a black furrow across his forehead. Then he relaxed with a smile half sheepish , half amused."Oh!, it's you, is it?" he said. "Lord, how you did startle me! And how
Lyall cut in with a rasp of anger. "cut that out! I've not come here to listen to damnfool sermons from such a model of saintly rectitude as you. I get my living in the way that best suits me! you're fighting for time, you hound. that's all you're doing . you've got a warning through with one of your confounded Inventions. you----"Dain held up his hand in gentle depreciation..I assure you there is not another soul in this house except ourselves who is aware of your presence here," he said. "I think I am intelligent enough to be able to look after myself. I have no need of outside protection. my knowledge of your movements is such that, had I wished I could have had the house surrounded by special police from the Yard---- hours before you were due to arrive. At least you will admit that." "I'm admitting all that!" snarled Lyall savagely. "And I want to know how it's done! That's what am here for, talking to you instead of putting a bullet thr
"it's not for me to be brave. That's for you. Have told you a dozen times. you never spoke a truer word in your life than when you said it was going to be a case of suicide.""Bah! You can't get my nerves on the jump. I've been in the game too long. Do you think you're going to get away with it by ranting a sermon at me or trying to pump me up with fear? Not in this life, Valmon Dain." "What do you want? mercy? It would be useless to you.""Lyall stood back, breathing heavily."Mercy?" he stormed. "I don't want mercyIt isn't yours to give. mercy is mine, I-----""Mercy is neither yours nor mine, Mr Lyall. The police are already informed.""The police!-----What?" he gasped."Are already informed. At least, they will be by the time the morning Dawns. The Yard was communicated with by the last post tonight. A simple letter-carded, undated, unsigned. just such a card as I have dispa
Delbury of Scotland Yard, was a machine made model of all that is just and proper in a force the discipline of which is second only to that of the fighting services. Three minutes to eight every morning of his life saw him swinging off his tram in the shadow of Big Ben. The next three minutes saw him walking the three hundred steps from the tramline to the entrance under the great gloomy arch. The clamorous strokes of eight o'clock saw him hanging his hat up on his own private peg. His subordinates dubbed him 'Old Punctuous," a nickname bestowed on him by his unimpressed Irish second in command. Shaughnessy had only arrived ten minutes before his chief. But in that time he had scrambled through an immense amount of work. A trifle excited and not a little perturbed he met Delbury at the door."Chief, there's the devil of a stew been brewing overnight," he said hurriedly. "I've been getting a line on it, but we're a bit patchy on information yet. Murder job.
Delbury was still in a bit of a mental fog, but he fastened on to that fact like a leech. There was some personal connection between the sender of those intimations and this murder.Shaughnessy went out and got the system busy. In five minutes the organization had slid into motion. The whole of the internknit workings of the Yard were proceeding swiftly and smoothly about their job of blocking up the exits of the country and notifying the police forces of every town throughout the kingdom."The car ready?" asked Delbury, stricken his head out of the door."Waiting outside," said Shaughnessy, coming back."Right, out you go. I'm starting in five minutes. Must go along and see the chief. He knows all about it, I suppose?""Sure; I phoned him at his house. He came straight down.Wants to see you about it before you go."Delbury hurried round to the great office on the first floor.&n
Lazard deftly charged the weapon with three small needles, which he took from a little gold ornament on his watch-fob. The needles were extremely thin, and about three-quarters of an inch long. They were wet when he lifted them from the little trinket, and he exercised scrupulous care in the way he handled them. He did not touch them with his fingers, but fed them into the tube with a pair of tweezers. Then he fitted a rubber shield over the trigger and slipped it back into his pocket. The cab was already half-way up Kingsway. He carefully wiped the gold trinket on a piece of cotton-wool, and burned the wool on the floor of the cab. It burned with a bright blue flame that flared up instantly, burned fiercely for a second, and as quickly died. He tapped the window, and the cab pulled in to the kerb. "I don't exactly know where Denburh House is, sir," said the driver apologetically. "All right; you've passed it. I'll walk back," said the Count, and paid him off
Dain rested for a few minutes from the pressing grip of his headphones, and then plugged in on a combination he knew by heart. He had got the pitch in on a combination he knew by heart. He had got the pitch of his instrument so perfectly attuned to that particular room that he got a first-class result without further experiment. In a moment there were voices in his headphones-three of them, talking rapidly. He recognized them all. They were Delbury, Shaughnessy, and the Chief. Dain pulled a notebook over and took a verbatim note of all that he required. "I'm asking for a warrant right now, chief." The voice was Delbury's vibrant with conviction. "You're satisfied about Dain?" "Absolutely. I wasn't at first, but I am now. I'm certain that as soon as we've arrested Dain we shall begin to get a start on the solution to the mystery of the Ghost. It's all wrapped up in this plain as a
The only break in the chain of silence was when, in a few seconds, the clear treble of the telephone girl's voice came on at the exchange with her businesslike "Number please?" Lazard pulled the instrument nearer to him. "This is the Count Lazard speaking," he said suavely. "I'm sorry to trouble you, miss, but I think there must be something wrong with my telephone. Has anyone been trying to ring me up?" "I couldn't remember offhand, sir, but I don't think so," replied the girl politely. "Nobody has called me and failed to get through?" "No, sir; not during the last hour, at least." "Just one more question, miss. Could you tell me if there is a crossed wire on your switchboard-one which throws a connection across to my line from another exchange?" "Just a moment, s
Dain tried a new series. At his tenth attempt he fell headlong into it. His hands were as near to trembling with excitement as ever they had been in his life as he reached out for his headphones. There was not the faintest doubt about the identity of that wheezy guttural voice. It was Tansy's. And he was talking half-earnestly, half-awakely, to another voice, a voice which was remarkable for its cold, inscrutable imperturbability. Dain glanced up at his dails to see into whose house the connection was made. He gasped with unbelief, and then came the realization that he knew that quiet voice, that voice with it's timbre of utter aloofness from emotion or excitement. It had a personality of it's own. It seemed to give out the impression that nothing could shake its serene imperturbability. If all London collapsed in the night, if the stars burst or the heavens fell, that voice would be heard discussing the matter with the cold detachment of an histori
Valmon Dain waited until the sound of Delbury's voice ceased in the study. All that came to him after that was the sound of quiet weeping, heart broken sobs that came gently over the whispering wires. And he knew that Delbury had gone. He glanced at his watch. "Time for a morsel of lunch," he muttered. "Delbury will be twenty minutes at the very least before he gets back to the Yard-probably half an hour before he's through to the chief." He opened a glass of tongue and ate with his headphones still on. He had fixed up a little electric-cooker in a corner above one of the purring dynamos, not a very elaborate contraption but quite sufficient for the simple needs of a man who was condemning himself to solitary companionship for the next few weeks. He made a mental note to take out a suitcase with him and lay in a safe supply of provisions. The ante-room outside he was already rearrangi
Mercia turned the scale in their own favour by substantiating her mother's declaration. "Surely you have told us horrors enough to know that we shouldn't be squeamish about hearing the rest?" she said bravely. "That a mystery exists and a very sinister one is obvious to even the meanest intelligence. If you won't tell us, Mr. Delbury, you leave us no other alternative than to make personal application to Scotland Yard itself, a recourse which would be extremely unpleasant for me to take, but one which I should not have the slightest hesitation in doing." "Delbury sighed and brushed his fingers through his hair."Very well, ladies," he said, in a tone of regretful resignation. "But whatever I tell you, I insist, is told you with the underlying proviso that it may not be true."Mrs. Lyall inclined her head the merest fraction."perhaps you could help me in the matter," said Delbury, running swiftly over his notes. "can you remember with
"Give me that telephone," said Mercia quietly."You're going to play the game straight---- by me?" Asked Delbury, with a searching look into her eyes."I am going to play straight--- by my father," replied Mercia, in a voice so faint that the detective barely heard it.He surrendered the telephone in silence."is that you, Mr. Dain? Mercia speaking. You wanted to speak to me," she said, striving to master the quiver in her voice."Yes, this is Valmon Dain, here," The voice at the other end was unemotional, almost coldly precise. Mercia felt an inward shudder at the cold austerity of it. Dain, even in the midst of tragedy, with the black shadow of the law looming great and omnipotent above him, was still the man of frosty restraint, the man with his thoughts and feelings under icy control. "I cannot talk to you personally," he went on steadily. "Something has happened which, were I to show myse
"Daddy? murdered?" Mrs. Lyall scarcely breathed the words. A mist of utter incredulity had clouded her brain. she could not bring herself even to associate the two words, much less to believe them. The detective had made a ghastly mistake. something was ludicrously, shockingly wrong. "But- but, Mercia," she gasped. "In God's name, tell me what he told you. Daddy murdered- why, the very idea of it is imbecilic. who on earth would want to murder him? Why it's absurd; the man's mad." And all the time she spoke the devil's of doubt were gnawing at her very heart. The whole mass of that doubt were nights mysteries were piling up their forces in her brain to convince her that something very dreadful had happened. "I---- I believe it, mumsy." Mercia spoke dully, her eyes still looking fixedly ahead at the opposite wall. "I think I believed it the moment I opened my eyes this morning. There seemed to be something in the in the air. I couldn't sleep. I d
"why not?""well, I knew that he had gone out to Hendon, you see.""oh!" Delbury looked his surprise. "And how did you know that?" he asked. "A man rang up---- somebody I've never seen or heard of before rang up and asked me if dad had got home yet from Hendon. That was the first I knew that he had not gone to bed all night.""What?" Delbury jumped. "A man rang up?" he snapped."Who was it?""I don't know. I'd tell you if I did. A coarsely spoken man; he referred himself as the gent from Notting hill." "Good Lord! Tansy," breathed Delbury. "so that's where he got the wire from. miss Lyall, do you know that by answering that telephone you have let one of the worst criminals in London slip through our fingers?""I wasn't aware of it, but I couldn't help it even if I did. But in what way does all this concern my father? I think I have answered quite enough of your questions. And really I cannot tax my anx