“A very charming lady concurred with me in my suspicions. By a ruse this morning he made other of our employees think he had been killed in an airplane crash. Now you have the whole case history, gentlemen. What is your will in the matter of his disposal?”
“Death!” cried a dozen voices at once. “Death!” echoed those who had not spoken first. “Kill the louse,” screamed one of the Belli brothers. “Let me burn him, boss!”
A note of mock reproach crept into the Octopus’s voice.
“Gentlemen! We must not forget that we are the directors of a large corporation. Our conduct must never be unseemly. But I am glad to see that there is no dissension on this matter. Let it be conducted in the usual way. Will some one please make a motion?”
Sullwell, the evil promoter, raised his hand. “I move, Mr. Chairman, that the spy and imposter in our midst be punished with death.”
“Will some one please second the motion?” asked the Octopus.
Lee Wong, impassive until now, spoke in a sing-song voice, toneless as the slithering of a reptile’s scales. “Mr. Chairman, I second the motion.”
“It has been moved and seconded that the impersonator of Mr. Van Camp be punished with death. All those in favor say ‘Aye!’”
A chorus of “ayes” filled the room, vicious as the snarling of a pack of blood hungry wolves.
“Those not in favor please signify in the customary way.”
Dead silence followed this pronouncement; a silence in which the merciless eyes of a group of the underworld’s worst spawn glared balefully at Agent “X.” The Octopus’s lips moved. His voice was as calm as though this were a routine business proceeding.
“The motion is carried, gentlemen. Stand up, Agent ‘X.’ Perhaps your death will not be quite so — ah — drastic if you will answer a few questions.”
The Secret Agent arose; knuckles resting on the mahogany table, gaze focused on the screen in the cabinet.
“What did you do with Van Camp, and exactly how did you learn from him the passwords and signals which gained you admittance to this meeting?” asked the Octopus. “The gentlemen gathered around this table would like to know.”
“I’ve nothing to say, Mr. Chairman.” The Secret Agent’s voice had the calmness of a director making response to some dry business matter. It matched the Octopus’s even tones. But the master criminal’s laughter filled the board room. It had a gloating, exultant quality.
“I am amused and pleased, Agent ‘X,’ that you chose to come here tonight. I know how you work — for I have followed reports of your activities in the papers, and have gathered whispered rumors in other quarters. You share your secrets with no one. You do not call the police until all the groundwork has been done by you. That is clever: but it also has its drawbacks. For when you die tonight there will be no one to carry on where you leave off.
“The police, I am assured, know nothing. Confidence in your own prowess has become your undoing, Agent ‘X.’ And it will perhaps surprise you to learn that I devised my ultra-ray methods of identification anticipating that you might try to sit in on one of our board meetings. Your phenomenal powers of disguise have gained you quite a reputation.” The Octopus paused.
One of the directors muttered savagely: “Kill ’im.”
“I am coming to that. You can talk freely now, Agent ‘X.’ There’s no need to preserve stubborn silence. Your work is over. You remember the doors you came through? Until I myself unlock them with radio impulse no single member of this board or employee of our corporation can leave this building. If you should use any of your novel little devices, your various defensive weapons — they would avail you nothing. Let us go a step further!
“If you should succeed in killing every one of the estimable gentlemen around you, you would still be a hopeless prisoner doomed to death. For I have certain small devices myself which could handle the situation. In the event of a police raid, for instance, a gas more deadly than diphosgene, or dichlorethyl sulphide, will flood every crack and cranny of the premises in less than ten seconds. Let me suggest again that you answer my questions.”
The Secret Agent spoke coldly. “You have received my answer, Mr. Chairman.” “X” had guarded his secrets carefully in life. He would take them to his grave if necessary. At least he wouldn’t give this satanic man the satisfaction of triumphing in that respect. The Octopus’s voice became more harsh.
“You see that the gentlemen about you have guns in their hands and are anxious to kill you at once. If you make the slightest violent move they will do so. In many respects it would be better for you if you did make a break now and courted swift death. I am not advising you to do it; but you may take your choice. If you care to live a few minutes longer, however, keep absolutely quiet.”
The Octopus then spoke to one of his boardmen. “Mr. Sullwell, please ring for an attendant.”
The treasurer pressed a button. A man dressed in a black suit and a black shirt entered. His face was a dead, unhealthy white. His eyes like his suit were coal black and beady as a snake’s. The Octopus addressed him.
“We are about to place a member of this board under arrest. You will bring three of your colleagues at once and conduct him to room 13. Switch on the extension when you get there. I shall hold you personally responsible for the prisoner’s safe keeping.”
The attendant’s ashen face seemed to grow a shade more ghastly. He nodded, left the room at once, returning with three other black-shirted figures. Two of them held steel nippers in their hands.
They approached Agent “X,” clamped the nippers over his wrists. The other two men thrust automatics against his back. A slight movement of his hands showed him that the jaws of the nippers were cruelly toothed and would slash his wrists into ribbons if he tried to break away.
A dry laugh came from the screen where the Octopus’s image showed.
“When you arrive in room 13 you will be given one more chance to talk, Secret Agent ‘X.’ And perhaps the surroundings there will be conducive to conversational talents!”
The mocking note in the sinister voice prepared “X” for some hidden horror. He walked stiffly out of the board room between his captors. The murderous eyes of the directors followed him. He read disappointment there — disappointment that they were not to become his executioners themselves. But fear of the Octopus, observance of his slightest wish, held their instincts in check.
HE was taken through a series of corridors, passed doors marked in white numerals. His four captors said nothing as they marched him along. The Octopus had not explained to them who he was. They had the impersonal air of paid executioners.
They stopped before a door marked 13, opened it and led Agent “X” in. One of them switched on a light, and he stared in amazement at the collection of strange looking apparatus set on the concrete floor.
At first it appeared to be factory machinery. Then a coldness gripped “X”—understanding that brought with it chill horror. One of his captors walked to a cabinet mounted on the near-by wall, a cabinet like that in the boardroom. He opened the doors, snapped a switch, and instantly the head and shoulders of the Octopus appeared here also. His now familiar voice sounded. He spoke almost as though he could see the Agent.
“You see, I follow you, Agent ‘X.’ You cannot escape me! Look around you and you will observe what function this room fulfills. I know by heart every item it contains. The ingenious machine directly in the center of the floor, for instance! Those cogs and chains — that movable framework! Merely a modern version of the rack. We anticipated that punitive measures might be necessary. Also methods of making bashful or stubborn persons talk. That rack has proved itself efficient.