George?’
‘All right, old chap,’ said Trenchard. He opened the huge oak cupboard doors to reveal the monitor screen and controls. ‘Not without a few modern security devices here, you know!’ He turned on the monitor screen.
The picture on the screen showed the Master sitting hunched up on a rough wooden chair, reading. There were heavy manacles on both his ankles, connected by a strong chain. He was in a tiny cell that had no window. Captain Hart had seen men in cells before, but nothing quite as primitive and restrictive as this.
‘Thank you,’ he said, and Trenchard turned off the monitor screen. ‘Are the chains absolutely necessary?’
‘The man is a vicious criminal,’ said Trenchard. ‘We feed him properly, of course, and take the chains off for an hour once a week to let him exercise his legs. But I don’t run this place as a holiday camp for his benefit.’
‘So I see,’ said Captain Hart. ‘Well, Miss Grant must have been mistaken. I’d better let you get on with your work.’
Trenchard, now in a cheerful mood, showed Captain Hart to the front door. ‘I must say, old chap, it was pretty odd of them to leave your Jeep here and take a taxi, but I can’t say that I’m really surprised. They seemed a strange couple.’
Captain Hart nodded, and said he’d send someone along to collect the Jeep. Then he got into his car and drove away.
Trenchard hurried back into his office and issued orders for the Master to be brought back to him. He could have had the Master returned to his own room, and then gone to see him there. But it gave Trenchard confidence to talk to people in his own office. Recent events had undermined his self-confidence quite enough, and he intended to build it up again. When the Master entered he was still carrying the black box.
‘I convinced him,’ said Trenchard, jubilantly. He had no intention of mentioning the Jeep to the Master, in case the Master was angry with him for not hiding it somewhere.
‘Congratulations,’ said the Master. ‘I hope that I played my part satisfactorily?’
‘What? Oh, yes, first-class performance, except that you didn’t have to do anything but sit still reading.’ Trenchard went on. ‘I had to do all the talking.’
‘Which I’m sure you did very well,’ said the Master. ‘Now I’d better get back to completing this device.’ He tapped the black box with his Iong slender fingers.
‘How long before you can have that thing working?’ asked Trenchard.
The Master shrugged. ‘A matter of hours. Only a few more problems to solve.’
‘And you’re sure it’ll do the trick?’
‘This,’ said the Master proudly, ‘will emit a signal exactly on the enemy’s wavelength. It will lure them into a trap, which you will set. Think of it, Trenchard, the agents who are sinking these ships will be caught! A grateful country will give you anything you ask for.’
Trenchard blushed. ‘I don’t want any reward, old man. Just doing my duty. Tell me, have you finished with the Doctor?’
‘Not yet;’ said the Master. ‘He’s going to help me complete my work.’
‘Good,’ said Trenchard, feeling that everything was beginning to turn out all right now. ‘Well, I’d better get one of my prison office chappies to escort you back to your room—just for appearances!’ He lifted the internal ’phone to call for an officer.
The guard came to take the Master away—and to a surprise that was lying in store for him.
Jo was not far away when Prison Officer Snellgrove turned and saw the naval jeep empty. She had calculated that the nearest place to hide—the bushes and foliage running along the main outside wall—was too far for her to sprint in the time that Snellgrove was facing Prison Officer Crawley. So she had got out of the Jeep, crawled beneath it and lain flat. From there she heard the two prison officers shouting angrily at each other. She could see Crawley’s feet as he hurried back inside the gatehouse to raise the
‘All right, old chap,’ said Trenchard. He opened the huge oak cupboard doors to reveal the monitor screen and controls. ‘Not without a few modern security devices here, you know!’ He turned on the monitor screen.
The picture on the screen showed the Master sitting hunched up on a rough wooden chair, reading. There were heavy manacles on both his ankles, connected by a strong chain. He was in a tiny cell that had no window. Captain Hart had seen men in cells before, but nothing quite as primitive and restrictive as this.
‘Thank you,’ he said, and Trenchard turned off the monitor screen. ‘Are the chains absolutely necessary?’
‘The man is a vicious criminal,’ said Trenchard. ‘We feed him properly, of course, and take the chains off for an hour once a week to let him exercise his legs. But I don’t run this place as a holiday camp for his benefit.’
‘So I see,’ said Captain Hart. ‘Well, Miss Grant must have been mistaken. I’d better let you get on with your work.’
Trenchard, now in a cheerful mood, showed Captain Hart to the front door. ‘I must say, old chap, it was pretty odd of them to leave your Jeep here and take a taxi, but I can’t say that I’m really surprised. They seemed a strange couple.’
Captain Hart nodded, and said he’d send someone along to collect the Jeep. Then he got into his car and drove away.
Trenchard hurried back into his office and issued orders for the Master to be brought back to him. He could have had the Master returned to his own room, and then gone to see him there. But it gave Trenchard confidence to talk to people in his own office. Recent events had undermined his self-confidence quite enough, and he intended to build it up again. When the Master entered he was still carrying the black box.
‘I convinced him,’ said Trenchard, jubilantly. He had no intention of mentioning the Jeep to the Master, in case the Master was angry with him for not hiding it somewhere.
‘Congratulations,’ said the Master. ‘I hope that I played my part satisfactorily?’
‘What? Oh, yes, first-class performance, except that you didn’t have to do anything but sit still reading.’ Trenchard went on. ‘I had to do all the talking.’
‘Which I’m sure you did very well,’ said the Master. ‘Now I’d better get back to completing this device.’ He tapped the black box with his Iong slender fingers.
‘How long before you can have that thing working?’ asked Trenchard.
The Master shrugged. ‘A matter of hours. Only a few more problems to solve.’
‘And you’re sure it’ll do the trick?’
‘This,’ said the Master proudly, ‘will emit a signal exactly on the enemy’s wavelength. It will lure them into a trap, which you will set. Think of it, Trenchard, the agents who are sinking these ships will be caught! A grateful country will give you anything you ask for.’
Trenchard blushed. ‘I don’t want any reward, old man. Just doing my duty. Tell me, have you finished with the Doctor?’
‘Not yet;’ said the Master. ‘He’s going to help me complete my work.’
‘Good,’ said Trenchard, feeling that everything was beginning to turn out all right now. ‘Well, I’d better get one of my prison office chappies to escort you back to your room—just for appearances!’ He lifted the internal ’phone to call for an officer.
The guard came to take the Master away—and to a surprise that was lying in store for him.
Jo was not far away when Prison Officer Snellgrove turned and saw the naval jeep empty. She had calculated that the nearest place to hide—the bushes and foliage running along the main outside wall—was too far for her to sprint in the time that Snellgrove was facing Prison Officer Crawley. So she had got out of the Jeep, crawled beneath it and lain flat. From there she heard the two prison officers shouting angrily at each other. She could see Crawley’s feet as he hurried back inside the gatehouse to raise the
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