His hand, holding the small object, approached the grilled opening.
Lacey shouted: “Wait! We’ll go.”
“All right.” Wilkerson’s hand disappeared with the metal object, reappeared in a moment with a pair of handcuffs which he dropped into the room. “Marsh is first. Cuff his hands behind him, and stand well back from the door. You have nothing to fear Marsh, if you are not Secret Agent ‘X.’ Otherwise, prepare to die.”
A HEAVY key turned in the lock outside. The door started to swing open. In the hallway the twisted figure of Wilkerson was disclosed, and beside him that of the bogus Sergeant Mace holding a sub-machine gun trained on the doorway. Mace called out:
“All right, Marsh come out. If any of you others try to come with him, I’ll cut you down.”
Marsh turned to his companions, said quietly: “Well, see you later.” He winked to them, turned and strode out of the room. The heavy door clanged shut behind him.
Sturgis and Lacey and Larkin began to talk all at once. Secret Agent “X” kept quiet. He was content to let the others buy their way out. As for himself, he must devise some means of outwitting Wilkerson and this unknown person who used the name of Doctor Blood. When his own turn came, he would not be able to avoid exposure. He could make no plans now, for he did not know where he would be taken from here. Of one thing he was sure — he would certainly make an attempt to kill Doctor Blood once he came face to face with him.
It was against the Agent’s policy to kill. He avoided it whenever possible. But in this case he regarded the person who used the title of Doctor Blood as no more than a mad dog, to be shot on sight. He regretted now, that his gas gun was not a lethal weapon.
His eyes stole to the small aperture in the opposite wall. He breathed easier when he noticed that it was closed now. No eye was observing them. Suddenly he appeared to stagger, clutched at Lacey’s coat.
“What’s the matter?” Lacey demanded, supporting him with one hand. He led “X” to a chair, seated him in it.
“I don’t know,” the Agent said, making his voice sound as weak as possible. “I got dizzy all of a sudden.”
Mayor Sturgis and Larkin crowded around him. Sturgis said sympathetically: “You must be under a terrible strain, Randall. You’ve been through more than the rest of us. After all, you were actually in the hands of one of Doctor Blood’s men once before. Take it easy, Randall.”
“X” kept his eyes closed for a while. He was entirely satisfied to appear to be a weakling before the others. He had accomplished his purpose. For, in staggering against Lacey as he had done, his hands had worked rapidly, efficiently, with a lightness of touch that defied detection. He had noted that Lacey was carrying his gun in an outside coat pocket. And he had made an exchange, placing his own gas gun in Lacey’s pocket, transferring Lacey’s gun to his own.
So swiftly, so expertly had he done it, that none of them had noticed it. Now he was armed with a weapon that would kill. And he was fully prepared to take the law into his own hands this time. If he got the opportunity, he would execute Doctor Blood in the interests of humanity.
Chapter XVI
THREE times more in the next hour the key turned in the lock and the heavy oak door swung open, revealing Wilkerson with his hideous claw, and Mace, armed with the submachine gun. Each time another man was led out. And they did not return. Sturgis was the second to go, then Lacey, then Larkin. They seemed more or less resigned to go peaceably, since Wilkerson had told them that it would be possible for them to buy their way out.
Lacey and Larkin were almost eager to make terms with Doctor Blood. Sturgis, though he felt the responsibility of his official position, seemed to be beaten. He was contrite at having dragged the others into this situation.
Larkin, who was the last to go, turned and shook hands with “X.” “Well, Randall, I suppose I’ll be seeing you shortly. This Doctor Blood must be mistaken about one of us being Secret Agent ‘X.’ I guess there’ll be little difficulty in all of us proving to him that we are ourselves.”
“X” made no reply, but shook hands with him, watched him leave the room. Again the oak door slammed shut.
The Agent was alone in the room. He had noted that with Lacey and Larkin, Wilkerson had not bothered to throw in a pair of handcuffs as he had done with Marsh and Sturgis. But he had seen Mace holding a pair in the corridor. Evidently they were sure enough of themselves to wait until they got each man outside now before handcuffing him.
“X” had noted the type of handcuffs which had been used on Marsh, and now, after casting a glance at the small aperture in the wall to make sure that it was closed and that he was not observed, he set to work quickly, extracted from his pocket a small case in which nestled a number of keys. From these he selected one, no more than three-quarters of an inch in length. This was a skeleton handcuff key.
“X” now replaced the case in his pocket and palmed the key. Though his hand remained open, the key rested there, held by the fleshy part of his palm. No one would have suspected that he was holding anything. The Agent took out the gun which he had slipped from Lacey’s pocket, examined it to make sure that it was loaded, pulled up his right trousers leg, and stuck it in under the top of his sock. His experience had shown him that very few people when frisking a man for weapons will look there.
Hardly had he finished, when a key grated in the lock, and the big oak door swung open. “X” was slightly surprised, for less than three minutes had elapsed since Larkin had left. He wondered why they were coming for him so quickly. But it was not the distorted figure of Wilkerson which appeared in the doorway.
It was the woman, Lola Lollagi.
“X” watched her silently, with eyes narrowed as she stole into the room, casting a fearful glance behind her. She closed the door softly, so as not to make any noise, then turned, ran impulsively toward him. Her beautiful face was drawn and haggard, and her eyes betrayed inexplicable terror.
She came close to him, whispered urgently: “I know who you are. You’re not Randall. You are the man that Doctor Blood has sworn to kill. You are Secret Agent ‘X’!”
“X” lowered his eyelids, veiling his eyes. He said nothing.
Her slim hand reached up, gripped his coat lapel, and she shook him impatiently. “Don’t deny it. You’re wasting time. I’m here to help you. I know who you are, because I followed you from headquarters when you carried Laurento away. Please, please, don’t waste time. There is so little left.”
“If you are so sure about who I am,” said the Agent, “why didn’t you tell this precious Doctor Blood of yours. He seems to want to know very badly. You collected his money for him, you told him where Laurento was hidden. Why don’t you betray me too?”
SHE dropped her hand with a gesture of despair, allowed her head to droop. “I was afraid of this. I was afraid you wouldn’t trust me.” Suddenly she raised her head, her large eyes met his. There was no guile in them now, only earnest pleading. “I’ll tell you the truth. I’ll tell you everything, because I want you to trust me. You must trust me.” Her hands clenched and unclenched fearfully.
“X” glanced furtively at the aperture in the far wall. It was still closed. “Go on,” he told her. “Talk quickly. They will soon be coming for me.”
She rushed on, the words tumbling from her lips. “Everything I did, I did because I was compelled to. Doctor Blood got Laurento in his power, and did something to him that gave him this lust for blood. Then he sent him out to kill.” She shuddered. “Laurento isn’t the only one. He has Wilkerson, and he has others. They all do his bidding. I don’t know what he does to them to make them obey him, but they go out to claw and kill at his command.”