THE COMPLETE BULLDOG DRUMMOND SERIES (10 Novels in One Edition). H. C. McNeile / Sapper

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СКАЧАТЬ to wait somewhere else. He half turned to the door as if to go out again, when suddenly he felt two hands like bars of steel around his throat. For a moment or two he struggled impotently; then he grew still. And after a while the limp body slipped to the floor and lay still.

      "Underneath that bench with him," snapped Blackton. "Quick."

      He had opened the door an inch or two and was peering out. The passage was empty, and faint sounds were coming up the stairs from the servants' quarters. "Stay where you are," he said to the two men. "I shall be back in a minute."

      He walked along the passage towards the front door, which he opened. Then he deliberately rang the bell, and stood for a few seconds peering out. And it was not until he heard the footsteps of the parlourmaid that he shut the door again with a bang, and advanced towards her, gesticulating wildly.

      "Where is your master?" he cried. "I must to my business get; I cannot here the whole day wait. That other gentleman—he does not wait. He go. I too—I follow him."

      He glanced at the girl.

      "Speak, woman."

      He waved his arms at her, and she retreated in alarm. "I will take my specimens, and I will go—like him."

      Still muttering horribly under his breath, he walked up and down the hall, while the parlourmaid endeavoured to soothe him.

      "I expect the Professor will be back soon, sir," she murmured.

      "Soon," he raved. "I who have come from Germany him to see, and then I wait. He write to me: I write to him—and then I come with my specimens. And you say soon. Nein—I go. I go like that other."

      It was at that moment that the front door opened and Professor Goodman entered.

      "A thousand apologies, my dear Professor," he cried, hurrying forward. "I fear I am late—very late. I hope I have not kept you waiting."

      He led the other towards the laboratory, and the parlourmaid made hurried tracks for safety.

      "No wonder that there other one wouldn't wait," she remarked to the cook. "He's a holy terror—that German. Dirty old beast, with egg all over his coat, waving his arms at me. Old Goodman is a pretty fair freak, but he does wash. I 'opes he enjoys himself."

      Which was a kindly thought on the part of the parlourmaid. And the fact that it was expressed at the exact moment that Professor Goodman went fully under the influence of an anaesthetic may be regarded as a strange coincidence. For there was no time wasted in the laboratory that afternoon. Much had to be done, and hardly had the door closed behind the master of the house when he found himself seized and pinioned. One feeble cry was all he gave; then a pad soaked in ether was pressed over his nose and mouth, and the subsequent proceedings ceased to interest him.

      Very interesting proceedings they were too—that went on behind the locked door. Bursts of German loquacity with intervals of a voice astonishingly like Professor Goodman's would have convinced any inquisitive person listening outside the door that the two savants were in full blast. Not that anyone was likely to listen, but Blackton was not a man who took chances. And it takes time to change completely two men's clothes when one is dead and the other is unconscious. One hour it was, to be exact, before the body of Mr Lewisham, dressed in Professor Goodman's clothes, even down to his boots, was propped up in a chair against the bench, with various bottles and retorts in front of him. One hour and a quarter it was before a number of small packets had been taken from the big wooden case and stacked carefully on the bench so that they touched the dead man's chest. One hour and a half it was before the still unconscious Professor Goodman was placed as comfortably as possible—Mr Blackton had no wish to run any chances with his health—in the big wooden case, and nailed up. And during the whole of that hour and a half the discussion on carboniferous quartz had continued with unabated zest.

      At last, however, everything was finished, and Blackton took from his pocket a little instrument which he handed very gingerly. He first of all wound it up rather as a Bee clock is wound, and when it was ticking gently he placed it in the centre of the heap of small packets. Then he unlocked the door.

      "Put the box on the car," he ordered. "Then pick up Freyder, and go straight to the house."

      Once again the two men staggered down the passage with their load, while Blackton glanced at his watch. Just a quarter of an hour to get through—before things happened. He closed the door again, and once more his guttural voice was raised in wordy argument for the benefit of any possible audience. And in the intervals when he ceased only the faint ticking broke the silence. Everything had gone without a hitch, but there were still one or two small things to be done. And the first of these showed the amazing attention to detail which characterised all his actions. He took the key from the door and put it on the desk; a master-key of his own would enable him to lock the door from outside, whereas the presence of the key in the room would make it appear that it had been locked from within. And it was precisely that appearance which he wished given.

      Once more he looked at his watch: ten minutes to go. Nervous work, that waiting; and even he began to feel the strain. But he daren't go too soon; he daren't leave too long a space of time between the moment he left the house and the moment when the ticking would cease. And he didn't want to go too late, because the last thing he desired was to be on, or even too near, the premises when the ticking ceased. Moreover, there was always the possibility of a flaw in the mechanism. Morelli was a wonderful craftsman, and he had staked his reputation on its taking exactly a quarter of an hour. But even so—it was nervous work, waiting.

      Precisely five minutes later—and they were the longest five minutes Mr Blackton had ever spent in his life—he pressed the bell. His guttural voice was raised in expostulation and argument as the parlourmaid knocked at the door. Still talking, he opened it himself, and over his shoulder the girl got a fleeting glance of Professor Goodman engaged in one of his experiments to the exclusion of all else.

      "My hat, girl," cried the German, waving his arms at her. She went to get it, and from behind her back came the noise of a key turning. "Ach! my friend—no one will disturb you," rumbled the German. "No need to your door lock."

      Mechanically he took the hat the parlourmaid was holding out, while he still continued muttering to himself. "What is the good? one mistake, and you will experiment no more. You and your house will go sky-high."

      Still waving his arms, he shambled off down the street, and the girl stood watching him. And it was just after he had turned the corner and she was expressing her opinion of his appearance to the cook, who was taking a breather in the area below, that she was hurled forward flat on her face. A terrific explosion shook the house; windows broke; plaster and pictures came crashing down.

      And if it was bad in the front, it was immeasurably worse at the back. A huge hole had been blown in the outside wall of what had once been the Professor's laboratory; the three inside walls had collapsed, and the ceiling had descended, bringing with it a bed, two wardrobes, and a washing-stand complete.

      In fact there was every justification for the remark of the parlourmaid as she picked herself up.

      "Lumme! what's the old fool done now? I suppose he'll ring the bell in a minute and ask me to sweep up the mess."

      An hour later Edward Blackton was seated at his desk in the house in the quiet square. Up to date his scheme had gone even more smoothly than he had expected, though there were still one or two small points to be attended to before he could retire from observation and devote himself to the Professor. There was bound to be an inquest, for instance, and he was far too big a man not to realise that it might be fatal СКАЧАТЬ