VI
THE DETECTAPHONE
Far after midnight though it had been when we had at last turned in atour apartment, Kennedy was up even earlier than usual in the morning. Ifound him engrossed in work at the laboratory.
"Just in time to see whether I'm right in my guess about the illness ofBrixton," he remarked, scarcely looking up at me.
He had taken a flask with a rubber stopper. Through one hole in it wasfitted a long funnel; through another ran a glass tube, connecting witha large U-shaped drying-tube filled with calcium chloride, which inturn connected with a long open tube with an up-turned end.
Into the flask Craig dropped some pure granulated zinc coated withplatinum. Then he covered it with dilute sulphuric acid through thefunnel tube. "That forms hydrogen gas," he explained, "which passesthrough the drying-tube and the ignition-tube. Wait a moment until allthe air is expelled from the tubes."
He lighted a match and touched it to the open upturned end. Thehydrogen, now escaping freely, was ignited with a pale-blue flame.
Next, he took the little piece of wall-paper I had seen him tear off inthe den, scraped off some powder from it, dissolved it, and poured itinto the funnel-tube.
Almost immediately the pale, bluish flame turned to bluish white, andwhite fumes were formed. In the ignition-tube a sort of metallicdeposit appeared. Quickly he made one test after another. I sniffed.There was an unmistakable smell of garlic in the air.
"Arseniureted hydrogen," commented Craig. "This is the Marsh test forarsenic. That wall-paper in Brixton's den has been loaded down witharsenic, probably Paris green or Schweinfurth green, which isaceto-arsenite of copper. Every minute he is there he is breathingarseniureted hydrogen. Some one has contrived to introduce freehydrogen into the intake of his ventilator. That acts on the arseniccompounds in the wall-paper and hangings and sets free the gas. Ithought I knew the smell the moment I got a whiff of it. Besides, Icould tell by the jaundiced look of his face that he was beingpoisoned. His liver was out of order, and arsenic seems to accumulatein the liver."
"Slowly poisoned by minute quantities of gas," I repeated in amazement."Some one in that Red Brotherhood is a diabolical genius. Think ofit--poisoned wall-paper!"
It was still early in the forenoon when Kennedy excused himself, andleaving me to my own devices disappeared on one of his excursions intothe underworld of the foreign settlements on the East Side. About themiddle of the afternoon he reappeared. As far as I could learn all thathe had found out was that the famous, or rather infamous, ProfessorMichael Kumanova, one of the leaders of the Red Brotherhood, was knownto be somewhere in this country.
We lost no time in returning again to Woodrock late that afternoon.Craig hastened to warn Brixton of his peril from the contaminatedatmosphere of the den, and at once a servant was set to work with avacuum cleaner.
Carefully Craig reconnoitred the basement where the eavesdroppingstoreroom was situated. Finding it deserted, he quickly set to workconnecting the two wires of the general household telephone with whatlooked very much like a seamless iron tube, perhaps six inches long andthree inches in diameter. Then he connected the tube also with theprivate wire of Brixton in a similar manner.
"This is a special repeating-coil of high efficiency," he explained inanswer to my inquiry. "It is absolutely balanced as to resistance,number of turns, and everything. I shall run this third line from thecoil into Brixton's den, and then, if you like, you can accompany me ona little excursion down to the village where I am going to installanother similar coil between the two lines at the local telephonecentral station opposite the railroad."
Brixton met us about eight o'clock that night in his now renovated den.Apparently, even the little change from uncertainty to certainty so farhad had a tonic effect on him. I had, however, almost given up theillusion that it was possible for us to be even in the den withoutbeing watched by an unseen eye. It seemed to me that to one who couldconceive of talking through an incandescent lamp seeing, even throughsteel and masonry, was not impossible.
Kennedy had brought with him a rectangular box of oak, in one of thelarge faces of which were two square boles. As he replaced the blackcamera-like box of the detectaphone with this oak box he remarked:"This is an intercommunicating telephone arrangement of thedetectaphone. You see, it is more sensitive than anything of the sortever made before. The arrangement of these little square holes is suchas to make them act as horns or magnifiers of a double receiver. We canall hear at once what is going on by using this machine."
We had not been waiting long before a peculiar noise seemed to issuefrom the detectaphone. It was as though a door had been opened and shuthastily. Some one had evidently entered the storeroom. A voice calledup the railroad station and asked for Michael Kronski, CountWachtmann's chauffeur.
"It is the voice I heard last night," exclaimed Brixton. "By the LordHarry, do you know, it is Janeff the engineer who has charge of thesteam heating, the electric bells, and everything of the sort aroundthe place. My own engineer--I'll land the fellow in jail before I'll--"
Kennedy raised his hand. "Let us hear what he has to say," remonstratedCraig calmly. "I suppose you have wondered why I didn't just go downthere last night and grab the fellow. Well, you see now. It is myinvariable rule to get the man highest up. This fellow is only onetool. Arrest him, and as likely as not we should allow the big criminalto escape."
"Hello, Kronski!" came over the detectaphone. "This is Janeff. How arethings going?"
Wachtmann's chauffeur must have answered that everything was all right.
"You knew that they had discovered the poisoned wall-paper?" askedJaneff.
A long parley followed. Finally, Janeff repeated what apparently hadbeen his instructions. "Now, let me see," he said. "You want me to stayhere until the last minute so that I can overhear whether any alarm isgiven for her? All right. You're sure it is the nine-o'clock train sheis due on? Very well. I shall meet you at the ferry across the Hudson.I'll start from here as soon as I hear the train come in. We'll get thegirl this time. That will bring Brixton to terms sure. You're right.Even if we fail this time, we'll succeed later. Don't fail me. I'll beat the ferry as soon as I can get past the guards and join you. Thereisn't a chance of an alarm from the house. I'll cut all the wires thelast thing before I leave. Good-bye."
All at once it dawned on me what they were planning--the kidnapping ofBrixton's only daughter, to hold her, perhaps, as a hostage until hedid the bidding of the gang. Wachtmann's chauffeur was doing it andusing Wachtmann's car, too. Was Wachtmann a party to it?
What was to be done? I looked at my watch. It was already only a coupleof minutes of nine, when the train would be due.
"If we could seize that fellow in the closet and start for the stationimmediately we might save Yvonne," cried Brixton, starting for the door.
"And if they escape you make them more eager than ever to strike a blowat you and yours," put in Craig coolly. "No, let us get this thingstraight. I didn't think it was as serious as this, but I'm prepared tomeet any emergency."
"But, man," shouted Brixton, "you don't suppose anything in the worldcounts beside her, do you?"
"Exactly the point," urged Craig. "Save her and capture them--both atonce."
"How can you?" fumed Brixton. "If you attempt to telephone from here,that fellow Janeff will overhear and give a warning."
Regardless of whether Janeff was listening or not, Kennedy was eagerlytelephoning to the Woodrock central down in the village. He was usingthe transmitter and receiver that were connected with the iron tubewhich he had connected to the two regular house lines.
"Have the ferry held at any cost," he was ordering. "Don't let the nextboat go out until Mr. Brixton gets there, under any circumstances. Nowput that to them straight, central. You know Mr. Brixton has just alittle bit of influence around here, and somebody's head will drop ifthey let that boat go out before he gets there."
"Humph!" ejaculated Brixton. "Much good that will do. Why, I supposeour
friend Janeff down in the storeroom knows it all now. Come on,let's grab him."
Nevertheless there was no sound from the detectaphone which wouldindicate that he had overheard and was spreading the alarm. He wasthere yet, for we could hear him clear his throat once or twice.
"No," replied Kennedy calmly, "he knows nothing about it. I didn't useany ordinary means to prepare against the experts who have brought thissituation about. That message you heard me send went out over what wecall the 'phantom circuit.'"
"The phantom circuit?" repeated Brixton, chafing at the delay.
"Yes, it seems fantastic at first, I suppose," pursued Kennedy calmly;"but, after all, it is in accordance with the laws of electricity. It'sno use fretting and fuming, Mr. Brixton. If Janeff can wait, we'll haveto do so, too. Suppose we should start and this Kronski should changehis plans at the last minute? How would we find it out? By telepathy?Believe me, sir, it is better to wait here a minute and trust to thephantom circuit than to mere chance."
"But suppose he should cut the line," I put in.
Kennedy smiled. "I have provided for that, Walter, in the way Iinstalled the thing. I took good care that we could not be cut off thatway. We can hear everything ourselves, but we cannot be overheard. Heknows nothing. You see, I took advantage of the fact that additionaltelephones or so-called phantom lines can be superposed on existingphysical lines. It is possible to obtain a third circuit from twosimilar metallic circuits by using for each side of this third circuitthe two wires of each of the other circuits in multiple. All threecircuits are independent, too.
"The third telephone current enters the wires of the first circuit, asit were, and returns along the wires of the second circuit. There areseveral ways of doing it. One is to use retardation or choke-coilsbridged across the two metallic circuits at both ends, with taps takenfrom the middle points of each. But the more desirable method is theone you saw me install this afternoon. I introduced repeating-coilsinto the circuits at both ends. Technically, the third circuit is thentaken off from the mid-points of the secondaries or line windings ofthese repeating coils.
"The current on a long-distance line is alternating in character, andit passes readily through a repeating-coil. The only effect it has onthe transmission is slightly reducing the volume. The current passesinto the repeating-coil, then divides and passes through the two linewires. At the other end the halves balance, so to speak. Thus, currentspassing over a phantom circuit don't set up currents in the terminalapparatus of the side circuits. Consequently, a conversation carried onover the phantom circuit will not be heard in either side circuit, nordoes a conversation on one side circuit affect the phantom. We couldall talk at once without interfering with each other."
"At any other time I should be more than interested," remarked Brixtongrimly, curbing his impatience to be doing something.
"I appreciate that, sir," rejoined Kennedy. "Ah, here it is. I have thecentral down in the village. Yes? They will hold the boat for us? Good.Thank you. The nine-o'clock train is five minutes late? Yes--what?Count Wachtmann's car is there? Oh, yes, the train is just pulling in.I see. Miss Brixton has entered his car alone. What's that? Hischauffeur has started the car without waiting for the Count, who iscoming down the platform?"
Instantly Kennedy was on his feet. He was dashing up the corridor andthe stairs from the den and down into the basement to the littlestoreroom.
We burst into the place. It was empty. Janeff had cut the wires andfled. There was not a moment to lose. Craig hastily made sure that hehad not discovered or injured the phantom circuit.
"Call the fastest car you have in your garage, Mr. Brixton," orderedKennedy. "Hello, hello, central! Get the lodge at the Brixton estate.Tell them if they see the engineer Janeff going out to stop him. Alarmthe watchman and have the dogs ready. Catch him at any cost, dead, oralive."
A moment later Brixton's car raced around, and we piled in and were offlike a whirlwind. Already we could see lights moving about and hear thebaying of dogs. Personally, I wouldn't have given much for Janeff'schances of escape.
As we turned the bend in the road just before we reached the ferry, wealmost ran into two cars standing before the ferry house. It looked asthough one had run squarely in front of the other and blocked it off.In the slip the ferry boat was still steaming and waiting.
Beside the wrecked car a man was lying on the ground groaning, whileanother man was quieting a girl whom he was leading to the waiting-roomof the ferry.
Brixton, weak though he was from his illness, leaped out of our caralmost before we stopped and caught the girl in his arms.
"Father!" she exclaimed, clinging to him.
"What's this?" he demanded sternly, eying the man. It was Wachtmannhimself.
"Conrad saved me from that chauffeur of his," explained Miss Brixton."I met him on the train, and we were going to ride up to the housetogether. But before Conrad could get into the car this fellow, who hadthe engine running, started it. Conrad jumped into another car that waswaiting at the station. He overlook us and dodged in front so as to cutthe chauffeur off from the ferry."
"Curse that villain of a chauffeur," muttered Wachtmann, looking downat the wounded man.
"Do you know who he is?" asked Craig with a searching glance atWachtmann's face.
"I ought to. His name is Kronski, and a blacker devil an employmentbureau never furnished."
"Kronski? No," corrected Kennedy. "It is Professor Kumanova, whom youperhaps have heard of as a leader of the Red Brotherhood, one of thecleverest scientific criminals who ever lived. I think you'll have nomore trouble negotiating your loan or your love affair, Count," addedCraig, turning on his heel.
He was in no mood to receive the congratulations of the superciliousWachtmann. As far as Craig was concerned, the case was finished,although I fancied from a flicker of his eye as he made some passingreference to the outcome that when he came to send in a bill to Brixtonfor his services he would not forget the high eyebrowed Count.
I followed in silence as Craig climbed into the Brixton car andexplained to the banker that it was imperative that he should get backto the city immediately. Nothing would do but that the car must take usall the way back, while Brixton summoned another from the house forhimself.
The ride was accomplished swiftly in record time. Kennedy said little.Apparently the exhilaration of the on-rush of cool air was quite inkeeping with his mood, though for my part, I should have preferredsomething a little more relaxing of the nervous tension.
"We've been at it five days, now," I remarked wearily as I dropped intoan easy chair in our own quarters. "Are you going to keep up thisdebauch?"
Kennedy laughed.
"No," he said with a twinkle of scientific mischief, "no, I'm going tosleep it off."
"Thank heaven!" I muttered.
"Because," he went on seriously, "that case interrupted a long seriesof tests I am making on the sensitiveness of selenium to light, and Iwant to finish them up soon. There's no telling when I shall be calledon to use the information."
I swallowed hard. He really meant it. He was laying out more work forhimself.
Next morning I fully expected to find that he had gone. Instead he waspreparing for what he called a quiet day in the laboratory.
"Now for some REAL work," he smiled. "Sometimes, Walter, I feel that Iought to give up this outside activity and devote myself entirely toresearch. It is so much more important."
I could only stare at him and reflect on how often men wanted to dosomething other than the very thing that nature had evidently intendedthem to do, and on how fortunate it was that we were not always freeagents.
He set out for the laboratory and I determined that as long as he wouldnot stop working, neither would I. I tried to write. Somehow I was notin the mood. I wrote AT my story, but succeeded only in making it moreunintelligible. I was in no fit condition for it.
It was late in the afternoon. I had made up my mind to use force, ifnecessary, to separate Kennedy from his study of
selenium. My idea wasthat anything from the Metropolitan to the "movies" would do him good,and I had almost carried my point when a big, severely plain blackforeign limousine pulled up with a rush at the laboratory door. A largeman in a huge fur coat jumped out and the next moment strode into theroom. He needed no introduction, for we recognised at once J. PerrySpencer, one of the foremost of American financiers and a trustee ofthe university.
With that characteristic directness which I have always thoughtaccounted in large measure for his success, he wasted scarcely a wordin coming straight to the object of his visit. "Professor Kennedy," hebegan, chewing his cigar and gazing about with evident interest at theapparatus Craig had collected in his warfare of science with crime, "Ihave dropped in here as a matter of patriotism. I want you to preserveto America those masterpieces of art and literature which I havecollected all over the world during many years. They are the objects ofone of the most curious pieces of vandalism of which I have ever heard.Professor Kennedy," he concluded earnestly, "could I ask you to call onDr. Hugo Lith, the curator of my private museum, as soon as you canpossibly find it convenient?"
"Most assuredly, Mr. Spencer," replied Craig, with a whimsical sideglance at me that told without words that this was better relaxation tohim than either the Metropolitan or the "movies." "I shall be glad tosee Dr. Lith at any time--right now, if it is convenient to him."
The millionaire connoisseur consulted his watch. "Lith will be at themuseum until six, at least. Yes, we can catch him there. I have adinner engagement at seven myself. I can give you half an hour of thetime before then. If you're ready, just jump into the car, both of you."
The museum to which he referred was a handsome white marble building,in Renaissance, fronting on a side street just off Fifth Avenue and inthe rear of the famous Spencer house, itself one of the show places ofthat wonderful thoroughfare. Spencer had built the museum at great costsimply to house those treasures which were too dear to him to entrustto a public institution. It was in the shape of a rectangle and plannedwith special care as to the lighting.
Dr. Lith, a rather stout, mild-eyed German savant, plunged directlyinto the middle of things as soon as we had been introduced. "It is amost remarkable affair, gentlemen," he began, placing for us chairsthat must have been hundreds of years old. "At first it was only thoseobjects in the museum, that were green that were touched, like thecollection of famous and historic French emeralds. But soon we found itwas other things, too, that were missing--old Roman coins of gold, acollection of watches, and I know not what else until we have gone overthe--"
"Where is Miss White?" interrupted Spencer, who had been listeningsomewhat impatiently.
"In the library, sir. Shall I call her?"
"No, I will go myself. I want her to tell her experience to ProfessorKennedy exactly as she told it to me. Explain while I am gone howimpossible it would be for a visitor to do one, to say nothing of all,of the acts of vandalism we have discovered."