himself, believed the menace to come from the outside—believed the drumming to be real and deliberately remained in this place?”
“The theory certainly covers the facts, but always it brings us back to—”
“What?”
“The mystery of how a man…”
“A man locked in alone,” Smith snapped, “can nevertheless be murdered and no clue left to show what means has been employed! Yes!” the word sounded almost like a groan. “The second mystery, of course, is the extraordinary behaviour of Doctor Jasper…”
He paused.
From somewhere outside came the sound of running footsteps, a sudden murmur of voices, then—I thought Hale, the chauffeur, was the speaker:
“Thank God, you’re alive, sir!”
A man burst into the laboratory, a short, thick-set, dark man, hair dishevelled and his face showing every evidence of the fact that he had not shaved for some time. His eyes were wild—his lips were twitching; he stood with clenched hands looking about him. Then his pale face seemed to grow a shade paler. Those staring eyes became focussed upon the body lying on the sofa.
“Good God!” he muttered, and then addressing Smith:
“Who are you? What has happened?”
“Doctor Martin Jasper, I presume?”
“Yes, yes! But who are you? What does this mean?”
“My name is Nayland Smith; this is Mr Bart Kerrigan. What it means, Doctor Jasper, is that your associate Mr Osaki has died in your place!”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
DR. MARTIN JASPER
“ Y ou are indeed a fortunate man to be alive.” Nayland Smith gazed sternly at the physicist. “You have been preparing a deadly weapon of warfare—not for the protection of your own country, but for the use of a belligerent nation.”
“I am entitled,” said Dr. Jasper, shakily wiping his wet brow, “to act independently if I choose to do so.”
“You see the consequences. As he lies, so
you
might be lying. No, Doctor Jasper. You had received three notices, I believe, from the Si-Fan.”
Dr. Jasper’s twitching nervousness became even more manifest.
“I had—but how do you know?”
“It happens to be my business to know. The Si-Fan, sir, cannot be ignored.”
“I know! I know!”
The doctor suddenly dropped on to a chair beside one of the benches and buried his dishevelled head in his hands.
“I have been playing with fire, but Osaki, who urged me to it, is the sufferer!”
He was very near to the end of his resources; this was plain enough, but:
“I am going to suggest,” said Nayland Smith, speaking in a quiet voice, “that you retire and sleep, for if ever a man needed rest, you do. But first I regret duty demands that I ask a few questions;”
Dr. Jasper, save for the twitching of his bands, did not stir.
“What were the Si-Fan’s orders?”
“That I deliver to them the completed plans and a model of my vacuum charger.”
“This invention I take it, gives a great advantage to those employing it?”
“Yes.” His voice was little more than a whisper. “It increases the present range of a rifle rather more than fifty per cent.”
“To whom were you to deliver these plans and model?”
“To a woman who would be waiting in a car by the R.A.C. call box at the corner of the London Road.”
“A woman!”
“Yes. A time was stated at which the woman would be waiting at this point. Failing my compliance, I was told that on receipt of a third and final notice at any hour during the twelve which would be allotted to me, if I cared to go to this call box, I should be met there by a representative.”
“Yes?” Smith urged gently. “Go on.”
The speaker’s voice grew lower and lower.
“I showed these notes to Osaki.”
“Where are they now?”
“He took them all. He urged me, always he urged me, to ignore them. By tonight I thought that my experiments would be completed, that I should have revolutionised the subject. He was to meet me here in the laboratory, and we both fully anticipatedthat the charger would be an accomplished
“The theory certainly covers the facts, but always it brings us back to—”
“What?”
“The mystery of how a man…”
“A man locked in alone,” Smith snapped, “can nevertheless be murdered and no clue left to show what means has been employed! Yes!” the word sounded almost like a groan. “The second mystery, of course, is the extraordinary behaviour of Doctor Jasper…”
He paused.
From somewhere outside came the sound of running footsteps, a sudden murmur of voices, then—I thought Hale, the chauffeur, was the speaker:
“Thank God, you’re alive, sir!”
A man burst into the laboratory, a short, thick-set, dark man, hair dishevelled and his face showing every evidence of the fact that he had not shaved for some time. His eyes were wild—his lips were twitching; he stood with clenched hands looking about him. Then his pale face seemed to grow a shade paler. Those staring eyes became focussed upon the body lying on the sofa.
“Good God!” he muttered, and then addressing Smith:
“Who are you? What has happened?”
“Doctor Martin Jasper, I presume?”
“Yes, yes! But who are you? What does this mean?”
“My name is Nayland Smith; this is Mr Bart Kerrigan. What it means, Doctor Jasper, is that your associate Mr Osaki has died in your place!”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
DR. MARTIN JASPER
“ Y ou are indeed a fortunate man to be alive.” Nayland Smith gazed sternly at the physicist. “You have been preparing a deadly weapon of warfare—not for the protection of your own country, but for the use of a belligerent nation.”
“I am entitled,” said Dr. Jasper, shakily wiping his wet brow, “to act independently if I choose to do so.”
“You see the consequences. As he lies, so
you
might be lying. No, Doctor Jasper. You had received three notices, I believe, from the Si-Fan.”
Dr. Jasper’s twitching nervousness became even more manifest.
“I had—but how do you know?”
“It happens to be my business to know. The Si-Fan, sir, cannot be ignored.”
“I know! I know!”
The doctor suddenly dropped on to a chair beside one of the benches and buried his dishevelled head in his hands.
“I have been playing with fire, but Osaki, who urged me to it, is the sufferer!”
He was very near to the end of his resources; this was plain enough, but:
“I am going to suggest,” said Nayland Smith, speaking in a quiet voice, “that you retire and sleep, for if ever a man needed rest, you do. But first I regret duty demands that I ask a few questions;”
Dr. Jasper, save for the twitching of his bands, did not stir.
“What were the Si-Fan’s orders?”
“That I deliver to them the completed plans and a model of my vacuum charger.”
“This invention I take it, gives a great advantage to those employing it?”
“Yes.” His voice was little more than a whisper. “It increases the present range of a rifle rather more than fifty per cent.”
“To whom were you to deliver these plans and model?”
“To a woman who would be waiting in a car by the R.A.C. call box at the corner of the London Road.”
“A woman!”
“Yes. A time was stated at which the woman would be waiting at this point. Failing my compliance, I was told that on receipt of a third and final notice at any hour during the twelve which would be allotted to me, if I cared to go to this call box, I should be met there by a representative.”
“Yes?” Smith urged gently. “Go on.”
The speaker’s voice grew lower and lower.
“I showed these notes to Osaki.”
“Where are they now?”
“He took them all. He urged me, always he urged me, to ignore them. By tonight I thought that my experiments would be completed, that I should have revolutionised the subject. He was to meet me here in the laboratory, and we both fully anticipatedthat the charger would be an accomplished
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