fact.”
“He had a key of the laboratory?”
“Yes.”
Nayland Smith nodded to me.
“Just before half past eleven an awful dread possessed me. I thought that the price which I should receive for this invention would be useless to a dead man. Just before Osaki was due I took my plans, my model—everything, slipped on a light coat, in the pockets of which I placed all the fruits of my experiments, and ran—I do not exaggerate—ran to the appointed spot.”
“What did you find? By whom were you met?” Smith snapped. “There was a car drawn up on the north side of the road. A woman was just stepping into it—”
“Describe her.”
“She is beautiful—dark—slender. I know her as Mrs Milton. I know now she is a spy!”
“Quite enough. What happened?”
“She seemed to be much disturbed as I hurried up. Her eyes—she has remarkable eyes—opened almost with a look of horror.”
“What did she do—what did she say?”
“She said: ‘Doctor Jasper, are you here to meet me?’ I was utterly dumbfounded. I knew in that awful moment what a fool I had been! But I replied that I was.”
“What did she say then?”
“She enumerated the items which I had been ordered to deliver up—took them from me one by one… and returned to the car. Her parting words were, ‘You have been wise.’ ”
“Then your invention, complete and practical, is now in the hands of the Si-Fan?”
“It is!” groaned Dr. Jasper.
“Some deadly thing,” said Nayland Smith bitterly, “was placed in the laboratory during the time that your key remained in the door—for in your nervous state you forgot to remove it. A few moments later Osaki entered. Someone who was watching mistook Osaki for you; the shots heard by the butler were a signal to that call box. The phone call is the clue! It was Osaki who took it…”
Inspector Gallaho dashed into the laboratory.
“I have traced the call,” he said huskily—“the local police are of some use after all! It’s a box about half a mile from here, on the London Road.”
“I know,” said Smith wearily.
“You know, sir!” growled Gallaho, then suddenly noticing Dr. Martin Jasper: “Who the devil have we here?”
The doctor raised his haggard face from his hands. “Someone who has no right to be alive,” he replied.
Gallaho began chewing phantom gum.
“I said the local police were of some use,” he went on truculently, staring at Nayland Smith. “What I mean is this: They have the woman who made the call.”
“What!”
Smith became electrified; his entire expression changed.
“Yes. I roused everybody, had every car challenged, and luckily got a description of the one we wanted from a passing A.A. scout who had seen it standing near the box. The village constable at Greystones very cleverly spotted the right one. The woman is now at police headquarters there, sir! I suggest we proceed to Greystones at once.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CONSTABLE ISLES’S STATEMENT
W hen presently Smith, Gallaho and I set out in the police car for Greystones, we had succeeded in learning a little more about the mysterious Mrs Milton. A police inspector and the police surgeon we had left behind at Great Oaks; but as Nayland Smith said, what expert opinion had failed to learn in regard to the death of General Quinto local talent could not hope to find out.
Mrs Milton, Dr. Jasper had told us before he finally collapsed (for the ordeal through which he had passed had entirely sapped his nervous energy), was a chance acquaintance. The doctor, during one of his rare constitutionals in the neighbouring lanes, had found her beside a broken-down car and had succeeded in restarting the engine. Quite obviously he had been attracted. They had exchanged cards and he had invited her to lunch and to look over his laboratory.
His description of Mrs Milton tallied exactly with that of the woman who had visited General Quinto on the night before his murder!
My excitement as we sped towards
“He had a key of the laboratory?”
“Yes.”
Nayland Smith nodded to me.
“Just before half past eleven an awful dread possessed me. I thought that the price which I should receive for this invention would be useless to a dead man. Just before Osaki was due I took my plans, my model—everything, slipped on a light coat, in the pockets of which I placed all the fruits of my experiments, and ran—I do not exaggerate—ran to the appointed spot.”
“What did you find? By whom were you met?” Smith snapped. “There was a car drawn up on the north side of the road. A woman was just stepping into it—”
“Describe her.”
“She is beautiful—dark—slender. I know her as Mrs Milton. I know now she is a spy!”
“Quite enough. What happened?”
“She seemed to be much disturbed as I hurried up. Her eyes—she has remarkable eyes—opened almost with a look of horror.”
“What did she do—what did she say?”
“She said: ‘Doctor Jasper, are you here to meet me?’ I was utterly dumbfounded. I knew in that awful moment what a fool I had been! But I replied that I was.”
“What did she say then?”
“She enumerated the items which I had been ordered to deliver up—took them from me one by one… and returned to the car. Her parting words were, ‘You have been wise.’ ”
“Then your invention, complete and practical, is now in the hands of the Si-Fan?”
“It is!” groaned Dr. Jasper.
“Some deadly thing,” said Nayland Smith bitterly, “was placed in the laboratory during the time that your key remained in the door—for in your nervous state you forgot to remove it. A few moments later Osaki entered. Someone who was watching mistook Osaki for you; the shots heard by the butler were a signal to that call box. The phone call is the clue! It was Osaki who took it…”
Inspector Gallaho dashed into the laboratory.
“I have traced the call,” he said huskily—“the local police are of some use after all! It’s a box about half a mile from here, on the London Road.”
“I know,” said Smith wearily.
“You know, sir!” growled Gallaho, then suddenly noticing Dr. Martin Jasper: “Who the devil have we here?”
The doctor raised his haggard face from his hands. “Someone who has no right to be alive,” he replied.
Gallaho began chewing phantom gum.
“I said the local police were of some use,” he went on truculently, staring at Nayland Smith. “What I mean is this: They have the woman who made the call.”
“What!”
Smith became electrified; his entire expression changed.
“Yes. I roused everybody, had every car challenged, and luckily got a description of the one we wanted from a passing A.A. scout who had seen it standing near the box. The village constable at Greystones very cleverly spotted the right one. The woman is now at police headquarters there, sir! I suggest we proceed to Greystones at once.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CONSTABLE ISLES’S STATEMENT
W hen presently Smith, Gallaho and I set out in the police car for Greystones, we had succeeded in learning a little more about the mysterious Mrs Milton. A police inspector and the police surgeon we had left behind at Great Oaks; but as Nayland Smith said, what expert opinion had failed to learn in regard to the death of General Quinto local talent could not hope to find out.
Mrs Milton, Dr. Jasper had told us before he finally collapsed (for the ordeal through which he had passed had entirely sapped his nervous energy), was a chance acquaintance. The doctor, during one of his rare constitutionals in the neighbouring lanes, had found her beside a broken-down car and had succeeded in restarting the engine. Quite obviously he had been attracted. They had exchanged cards and he had invited her to lunch and to look over his laboratory.
His description of Mrs Milton tallied exactly with that of the woman who had visited General Quinto on the night before his murder!
My excitement as we sped towards
Similar Books
