“Are you sure?”
“I made sure. I intended to be followed.”
“Good heavens!”
“I had not hoped, I confess, for so big a fish as the doctor in person, but that you would be raided by important members of the Si-Fan shortly after my departure was moderately certain. They were watching. I saw them as I left in the Yard car. I gave them every opportunity to note that although I had arrived with a bulky portfolio, I was leaving without it!”
“But, Smith, you might have given me your confidence!”
Anger, mortification, both were in my tones, but instantly Nayland Smith had his hands on my shoulders. His steady eyes sobered me.
“Remember the Green Death, Kerrigan. Oh, I’m not reproaching you! But Doctor Fu Manchu can read a man’s soul as you and I read a newspaper. I had men posted in the park (closed at that time), and I had a key of your front door—”
“Smith!”
“You were well protected. The arrival of Ardatha presented a new problem. I had not counted on Ardatha—”
“Nor had I!”
“But when no fewer than seven suspicious characters were massed in front of the house, and a tall thin man wearing a cloak was reported as having entered—(your front door, apparently being open)—I gave the signal. You know what followed.”
“I understand now, Smith, how crushing the disappointment must be.”
“Crushing indeed! I had King Shark in my net—and he bit his way out of it!”
“But the Ericksen Ray?”
“He has held the secret of the Ericksen Ray for many years. Doctor Ericksen, its inventor, died or is reported to have died in 1914. As a matter of fact, he (with God knows how many other men of genius) has been working in Doctor Fu Manchu’s laboratories probably up to the present moment!”
“But this is incredible! You have hinted at it before, but I have never been able to follow your meaning.”
Automatically Nayland Smith’s hand went to the pocket of his dilapidated coat and out came the briar and the big pouch.
“He can induce synthetic catalepsy, Kerrigan. I was afraid when I found you in Whitehall the other day that for some reason he had practised this art upon you. Except in cases where I have been notified, these wretched victims have been buried alive.”
“Good God!”
“Later, at leisure, his experts disinter them, and they are smuggled away to work for the Si-Fan!”
“And to where are they smuggled?”
“I have no idea. Once his base was in Honan. It is no longer there. He has had others, some as near home as the French Riviera. His present headquarters are unknown to me. His genius lies not only in his own phenomenal brain, but in his astonishing plan of accumulating great intellects and making them his slaves. This is the source of his power. He wastes nothing. You see already, as General Diesler’s death proves, he is employing the Jasper vacuum charger. I think we both know the name of the man who invented the television apparatus which you have seen in action. But probably we don’t want to talk about it . . .”
Up and down the carpet he paced, up and down, restless, over-tensed, and stared out of the window.
“There lies London,” he said, “in darkness, unsuspecting the presence in its midst of a man more than humanly equipped, a man who is almost a phantom—who is served by phantoms!”
A second later I sprang madly to his side.
Heralded by no other sound, there came a staccato crash of glass . . . then I was drenched in fragments of plaster!
A bullet had come through the window and had buried itself in the wall . . .
“Smith! Smith!”
He had not moved, but he turned now and looked at me. I saw blood and was overcome by a sudden, dreadful nausea. I suppose I grew pale, for he shook his head and grasped my shoulder.
“No, Kerrigan. It was the tip of my ear. Good shooting. The whizz of the bullet was deafening.”
“But there was no sound of a shot!”
He moved away from the window.
“Diesler was killed at a range of three thousand odd yards,” he said. “You remember we were talking about the Jasper vacuum charger?”
* * *
“I am disposed to believe that what Ardatha told you was true,” said Nayland Smith.
He was standing staring down reflectively at something resting in his extended palm: the bullet which had made a hole in my wall. The cut in his ear had bled furiously, but now had succumbed to treatment and was decorated with a strip of surgical plaster.
“This attempt, for instance”—he held up the bullet—”somehow does not seem to be in the doctor’s handwriting. In spite of its success I doubt if the ‘silencing’ of General Diesler was directed by Fu Manchu. If there is really trouble in the Council of Seven it may mean salvation. Assuming that I live to see it, I think I shall know, without other evidence, when Doctor Fu Manchu is deposed.”
“In what way?” I asked curiously.
“Remind me to tell you if it occurs, Kerrigan. Ah! may I put the light out?”
“Certainly”
He did so, then glanced from my study window.
“Here are our escorting cars, I think. Yes! I can see Gallaho below.”
He turned and began to reload his pipe.
‘Tonight’s near-triumph, Kerrigan, was made possible by the remarkable efficiency of Chief Detective Inspector Gallaho. Gallaho will go far. He obtained evidence to show that none other than Lord Weimer, the international banker, is a member of the Si-Fan . . .”
“What!”
I cried the word incredulously.
“Yes—astounding, I admit. In fact, it almost appears that his house in Surrey is the temporary headquarters of Si-Fan representatives at present in England. I obtained a search warrant, paid a surprise visit during Weimer’s absence in the city, and went over the place with a microscope. I experienced little difficulty—such a violent procedure had not been foreseen. Nevertheless, although the staff was kept under observation, news of the raid reached Weimer. . . He has disappeared.”
“But, Lord Weimer—a member of the Si-Fan!”
“He is. And a document involving even greater names was there as well. Even as I held it in my hand (I had time for no more than a glance) I wondered if I should ever get through alive with such evidence in my possession. I was not there in my proper person. You know what I looked like when I returned. The proceedings, officially, were in charge of Gallaho, but I adopted a precautionary measure.”
His pipe filled, he now lighted it with care. I saw a grim smile upon his face: “I sent Detective Sergeant Cromer back to Scotland Yard. He travelled in a Green Line bus, accompanied by one other police officer—and between them they carried evidence to upset the chancelleries of Europe! One idea led to another. I took it for granted that I should be followed, that attempts would be made to intercept me. I led the trail to your door, hoping for a big haul. I had one. But there was a hole in the net.”
“What do we do now?”
“We are going to Number I0 Downing Street.”
“What!”
“This discovery means an international situation. The Prime Minister has returned from Chequers and is meeting us there. The commissioner is bringing the documents from Scotland Yard, in person. Here is something for your notes, Kerrigan. I promised you a bigger story than any you had ever had. Come on!”
Indeed I had never expected to be one of such a gathering. There were three cars, one leading, then that in which I travelled with Nayland Smith, and a third bringing up the rear. The leading car, belonging to the flying squad, was driven at terrific speed through the streets. Under the circumstances I confess I was not surprised that we arrived at our destination without any attempt being made upon us. So vast were the issues at stake that even my fear for Ardatha was numbed.