The Agent’s mind was racing, already planning for the immediate future, planning some means of taking advantage of the demented financier’s condition.
At that moment, Norman Marsh sprang forward, a heavy blue steel automatic in his hand, leveled at the wicker window. The explorer’s face was set in a grim line, as he pressed his finger upon the trigger aiming at Wilkerson’s face.
The Agent acted quickly on the spur of the moment. He struck Marsh’s wrist, causing the automatic to explode into the floor. Wilkerson’s face disappeared from the wicker, and the steel window snapped shut.
Marsh swung on the Agent, his eyes blazing. “Damn you,” he shouted. “You stopped me from killing that beast!”
The others were also staring at “X,” their eyes showing strange suspicion.
The Agent tried to explain to them. “Don’t you see, Marsh, we couldn’t gain a thing by that. Wilkerson isn’t the boss. But killing him will leave us just as badly off as we are now. It was a mistake to show our captors that we are armed. It would have been better to save that as a surprise for a time when it would do us some good.”
Lacey sneered. “Sounds like a good argument, Randall, but the fact remains that that madman out there is Grover Wilkerson. He’s the one who has clawed all our friends to death, drained their bodies of blood. And Marsh could have killed him if you hadn’t stopped him.” His voice assumed an insinuating tone. “Maybe you have some special reason for saving Wilkerson’s life, Randall. After all, we don’t know whom to trust in a situation like this.”
Mayor Sturgis tried to soothe Lacey. “Look here, John,” he urged. “You don’t mean to say that Randall has got anything to do with Doctor Blood!”
“Why not,” Lacey went on impetuously. “We suspected Stanton, why can’t we suspect Randall. Why, look at the chance Marsh had—”
It was Marsh who stopped him. “Cut it out, Lacey,” he snapped. “Randall was right, and I was a fool. Now they know we’re armed. You others have guns too, haven’t you?”
They all nodded, and he went on. “They forgot to search us when they brought us here. We might have had a chance to use our guns when they take us out of this room. Now they’ll be more careful. Randall knew what he was doing when he knocked my gun down. I think you owe him an apology, Lacey!”
It was sometime before the air of tension in the room subsided. But the lingering seeds of suspicion which Lacey had aroused, continued to do their work. The glances which the men exchanged showed that they had ceased to trust each other. And “X” could hardly blame them. For it was entirely possible that any one of them might be connected with Doctor Blood just as they had suspected that Stanton was, just as he himself had suspected that Langknecht was.
“X” found a chair, relaxed, and closed his eyes. To the others he appeared to be sleeping. But in reality the active brain behind those closed eyes was weighing every angle of the situation. They were prisoners of Doctor Blood, and in spite of the fact that there was a police station right behind the building in which they were confined, they would all surely die if the Agent did not evolve some plan to release them.
This was a situation which called for all the resources, all the abilities, all the great daring of that man who was known as Secret Agent “X.” And for once he did not feel that sense of extreme confidence which he generally experienced in his clashes with clever criminals.
For Doctor Blood was indeed the master of them all — in ingenuity, in ruthlessness, and in fiendishness.
Chapter XV
THE Agent’s thoughts were disturbed by the voices of the other men in the room, which rose to a high pitch of excitement. Larkin was almost hysterically berating Marsh and Mayor Sturgis for having compelled him to go with them. “Damn you both!” he shouted. “I wanted to pay, I wanted to settle with this Doctor Blood, and you wouldn’t let me. Now you’ve dragged me into this. We’re in the hands of that madman, Wilkerson. Now we’ll all have our throats torn open, and our blood drained out of us!”
“We can still put up a fight,” Marsh growled. “We’re all armed. They may have sub-machine guns, they may have claws, but five determined men like us ought to be able to give a good account of ourselves. To hell with this Doctor Blood. Let’s sell our lives as dearly as possible!”
Mayor Sturgis was glumly silent. He let Marsh finish, and then he said: “Perhaps there’s some way out of this. Maybe we can do business with this Doctor Blood. It’s all my fault, gentlemen. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this. But my duty as mayor—”
Secret Agent “X” did not hear the rest of what Sturgis had to say. For he had opened his eyes, and in glancing around the room noted that a tiny aperture in the opposite wall had slid open. It was no more than an inch by probably a half inch wide. But behind that opening he detected an eye peering in at them. He arose from his chair, borrowed a cigarette from Marsh and lit it. Under cover of lighting Marsh’s cigarette for him, he whispered to the explorer: “Be careful what you say or do. We are being watched. Don’t look around.”
Marsh lowered his eyes to signify that he understood. Then he said with a great appearance of casualness: “Perhaps you’re right, Sturgis. Maybe it would be better to pay up. I wonder if Doctor Blood would take our money now.”
“It’s a good thing,” Sturgis replied, “that Randall didn’t let you shoot Wilkerson through the door, Marsh. If you had killed him, or injured him. Doctor Blood might want to take revenge on us, rather than accept our money. Now we have a chance.”
Lacey was pacing up and down, again. He was about to say something, when he stopped short; for the wicker grill in the massive door was swung open once more.
They all turned to the door, remained silent as Wilkerson’s ugly face appeared there again. This time Wilkerson did not press his face as close to the grill as he had before. His right hand was close to the opening, and in it he held a small metal object.
The Agent recognized this as the same sort of gas bomb which Laurento had thrown into the commissioner’s room, and which the men who attacked him in his retreat had attempted to use on him. Apparently this sort of bomb could be used as a container for various kinds of gases.
Wilkerson’s harsh, cackling voice addressed them. “I won’t use this gas bomb unless I have to. Doctor Blood wants to talk to you, one at a time. You’ll come out in turn, according to your numbers on his list. Marsh is first, Sturgis next, then Lacey, Larkin, and Randall last. Do you agree, or do I throw this bomb in and knock you all unconscious?”
The five men in the room glanced at one another questioningly. Marsh was about to say something defiant, when “X” stopped him by putting a hand on his arm. Then “X” said to Wilkerson:
“Maybe you’ll tell us what Doctor Blood wants to talk to us about. And why he wants to see us one at a time?”
Wilkerson seemed to think that over for a minute, then he said quickly: “Yes, I’ll tell you. Doctor Blood knows that four of you men are the ones you’re supposed to be. But one of you isn’t. One of you is here in disguise — he is the person who is known as Secret Agent ‘X.’ That man must die. The rest of you can buy your way out of here.”
Mayor Sturgis started to laugh nervously. “Secret Agent ‘X’! Impossible! Why, we all know each other thoroughly. I’ll vouch for every one of these men!”
“And who,” Wilkerson sneered, “will vouch for you?”
Sturgis flushed. “What do you mean—”
“Stop it!” Wilkerson’s mad voice almost cracked with its intensity. “I hate every damn one of you. You all contributed in some way to my ruin. I’d like to claw you all. Answer quickly. Do you agree to come out one at a time, or do I throw the bomb?”