“No,” he answered. “They were a cinch. But I didn’t want to impress our hosts with any escape tricks too soon. They might have made it really inconvenient.”
I stared at him. “Inconvenient? Don’t look now, but we seem to be pretty completely surrounded by case-hardened steel bars and an electrically controlled double-lock system. Even if you still had your picklocks and could beat that first lock on your door, you’d still have to project some ectoplasm or something to reach that wall switch that controls the other bolt. It’s a good 25 feet from us both and 10 feet outside the cell-block itself.”
“But it could be worse. Hooper might have left Stevens in here to watch us. About the only way out then would have been to hypnotize him, and he doesn’t look like a particularly good subject.”
“We’re so lucky!” I said. “That leaves us three or four ways out, I suppose.”
“Well, it leaves one good one at least, and we’re taking it. I’ve got to get a look at those newspaper stories O’Halloran has been jabbering about. I want to know what Maxie and the Duke have to do with this case. Somehow I don’t like not knowing. It’s something Gavigan apparently doesn’t want us messing around in. And I want to mess. If I don’t, and quickly, the devil might find more work for the murderer’s idle hands to—” Abruptly he stopped, gave me a queer, thoughtful look and added, “Idle hands — idle hand — Ross, that does it!”
“Does what? Get us out of here?”
“It tells me my hunch about the murderer’s identity is correct. I think we’d better go away from here right now.”
“Good,” I cracked. “After you, Gaston.”
Merlini all this time had been fiddling with the lock on his door. He fiddled a moment longer, then suddenly straightened up and said, “Okay, Ross, I’m set. Now do exactly what I tell you and don’t argue. We’re in a hurry. Take this cigarette lighter”—he scaled it across the floor and under the bars into my cell—“rip that mattress cushion on your cot a bit, light the kapok inside, and as soon as you have a fair blaze, holler, ‘fire.’ And rattle your tin cup against the bars. That’s the customary prison etiquette.”
I would have agreed then that Hooper was right and that Merlini was off his chump except that I’ve heard him issue cockeyed orders before — orders that later proved fairly sensible. I obeyed.
Our jailmates down the way watched me wonderingly. Rednose said, “Hell, those two have gone stir-bugs already.”
Weary Willie said, “Look like a couple of dope-hops to me.”
When I had fanned up a little blaze and a good deal of smoke Merlini said, “That’s fine. Your story is that you dropped your cigarette. Now turn in the alarm.”
I sang out and got action immediately. The very thought of fire in his nice new jail brought Hooper on the double-quick, and nearly everyone else — the Captain, O’Halloran, Stevens, and others.
Hooper fumbled and swore at the lock on the cell-block door. As he got it open and came on the run toward me, he yelled, “Somebody throw that switch!”
Stevens reached it, and a moment later Hooper pulled my door open. Robbins ran in with a sloshing water bucket and threw the contents on the cot. Hooper poured a lavalike flow of language at me that was so blistering I was afraid it would touch off a much larger conflagration. I wondered if Merlini was hoping that the Chief’s wrath would melt the bars off the cell. It nearly did.
“You’d better throw another bucket of water on the Chief,” I told Robbins, “before he goes up in smoke.”
“We’ve got a charge on you now, Harte,” Schafer said. “Willful destruction of county property. Laugh that off.”
Hooper relieved me of the cigarettes and the lighter, placed me in the next cell down the line, and slammed the door angrily. This time the sound seemed more irrevocable than ever.
Merlini, standing close against the bars of his cell door, watched us and made no comment. Hooper gave him a piece of his mind in passing, for good measure. He relocked the cell-block door and threw the switch. Then, with the others, he went out again, still muttering.
“Well,” I said then, “here we are again. Why didn’t you do whatever it was you had in mind?”
“I did,” Merlini said quietly.
He pushed gently at the door of his cell. It opened and he stepped out.
He went immediately to the cell-block door, thrust his hand between the bars and, from the outside, inserted an angular buttonhook-shaped probe into the lock’s keyhole.
“Where the devil did you hide that picklock?” I asked, my mouth ajar. “Swallow it?”
“No. When we first came in I took a good look at these locks. They’re Courtney-Brema Company’s latest model. Then, my hand in my pocket, I slipped the picklock I figured I’d need off the key ring and palmed it. Perhaps you’ve noticed that all my picks have a small sharp hook on their upper end. There’s a reason. While we were undressing I edged up near Hooper, used a little primary misdirection to keep his eyes front, and hung the picklock on the back of his coat. It’s slender and black and wouldn’t have shown up much against his dark-blue uniform even if he had turned around. When he ushered me into my cell I lifted it again. I used the Chief himself as a gimmick. It’s a simple dodge and an old one. It’s highly recommended and endorsed by leading professionals in Jail, Bank-Vault, and Underwater Escapes, issue number 16 of my dollar booklets, ‘The Strange Secrets Series.’”
“Stop advertising,” I said. “What about the electrically controlled double lock? I saw the Chief throw the switch.” I glanced at the door of Merlini’s cell. The heavy switch-controlled bolt was projecting in the locked position. In opening his door, Merlini had apparently caused solid steel to pass through solid steel!
The cell-block door opened as I spoke, and Merlini went quickly to the wall switch and pulled it down. The bolts on all the cells slid back. He returned and got to work on the individual lock on my cell.
“I had my door unlocked, except for the electrical device,” he explained, “before you called Hooper in with your fire alarm. As soon as Stevens threw the switch I was free of my cell. When they left, and just as Hooper reached up to throw the switch again, I pushed my door open half an inch. The bolt on my door slid over without engaging. Hooper’s clink would be a mite harder to leave if that cell-block door was on the electrical hookup too. Courtney-Brema Company gave him short weight.”
Merlini’s attack on my lock was swift and sure. As he finished his explanation, the door swung wide and I stepped out into the corridor with him.
From down the corridor a voice said, “Say, old-timer, don’t forget us.”
“l haven’t,” Merlini said, going toward them. He began to work on Weary Willie’s door.
“You’re a right gee,” that gentleman said appreciatively. “This is really swell of you.”
“Don’t jump to conclusions,” Merlini replied. “You aren’t going far. Just down to my cell. You and your friend are going to take our places so that if the Chief gets nosy as he promised, he’ll think we’re still here and sleeping. Keep under your blanket and keep your faces out of sight. He may not notice your absence because right now we’re on his mind almost exclusively.”
“Yeah? Do we look like chumps? If you don’t take us with you, we’ll sing out right now. His Nibs might give us a few privileges if we prevented a couple of big-shots like you two from lamming. He might even fix it so’s our lags were cut.” By lags he meant sentences.
“Well,” Merlini said, “you know him better than I do. But I doubt that. He’s more likely to throw you into solitary for life so you won’t be able to spread the news that it’s so easy to cop a sneak out of his pride and joy of a jail. Besides, if you boys play ball it will be worth a double-saw apiece. That’ll fix you up for smokes and a few other luxuries. Ten now and ten later if you keep him thinking we’re still here as long as you can get away with it.”