Chapter XIII
The plane dropped down out of the sky at four o'clock Mondaymorning, Eastern Standard time. Professor Brierly, as was his wontwhen traveling in a conveyance that he could not drive himself,was fast asleep. He had slept throughout the journey in spite ofthe roar of the whirling blades that had swept them through theskies.
A light touch on his arm woke him as they taxied to the end of thefield. At its further end a man was seen pottering about the smallhangar.
As the three men stepped out of the plane, two uniformed policemenapproached. One of them, after looking at the ill assorted trio,addressed Professor Brierly.
"Herman Brierly?"
Professor Brierly looked up at the huge bulk of the man. Henodded, staring in puzzled silence from one to the otherpoliceman. The spokesman for the pair said: "Will you come withus, Mr. Brierly. We--"
Jimmy's swift, keen glance took in the two men, their uniforms,their badges, their features, their shoes. He paid specialattention to their shoes.
He murmured softly to Matthews:
"Good hunch of yours, Jack. Get set, they're not policemen."
Matthews slid his lanky length between Professor Brierly and theuniformed men. He interrupted their spokesman:
"What's this about, what do you want Professor Brierly for?"
The other looked at him insolently.
"I said, we want Professor Brierly, young feller."
"Yes, I heard that; I asked what you want him for."
"Well, if you want to know, he's under arrest."
"I'm still curious to know all about it," quietly said Matthews."What's he under arrest for?"
"Listen, young feller, we was ordered to bring him in, see? Andwe're gonna bring him in. Now we don't want no trouble. If hecomes along with us quiet like--"
Matthews' body had by this time edged the tiny form of ProfessorBrierly several feet away. Matthew's large form was now squarelybetween that of the little scientist and the two policemen. Jackinterrupted:
"You don't want trouble, do you? Well, I do. I want trouble. I'mjust aching and pining for trouble. If you don't want trouble youknow how to avoid it. Go 'way and don't bother us--"
The other policeman was circling the pair. Jimmy interrupted atthis point. Jimmy was talking in a soft low drawl. Those who knewJimmy Hale knew that he was never as dangerous--to others--as whenhe spoke that way.
"Officer, this can be settled easily. You've got a warrant, ofcourse. My friend," jerking his head toward Matthews, "is a littlehot-headed. If you just show us the warrant, there won't be anytrouble."
Another man in uniform had been approaching the group from a carthat was parked in the road near the edge of the field. As he camenearer, he called out:
"Oh, what the hell's all this palaver about. Let's take him." Helunged for Professor Brierly, his hand outstretched.
Matthews got into motion at the same time. The third policeman didnot quite reach Professor Brierly. A hard, bony fist struck himabout two inches above the belt buckle. He folded up, emitting ahoarse grunt, his bulging eyes mirroring acute pain. The mate tothe first fist whipped up in a short vicious arc. The man's headsnapped backward. His knees wilted; he fell to the ground slowlyas a tree falls; he lay there quietly.
The two other policemen had moved forward. Jimmy moved towardthem. Jimmy was never quite good enough to make the varsity teamin his four years at college. But he had tried for four years andhe had always been on the squad. His coach had, what amounted to aphobia, in the matter of blocking. Thus Jimmy, if he learnednothing else, had learned how to block. His coach had saidrepeatedly that no man can become a football player unless helearn to block. He had blocked and tackled big, fast, bruisingvarsity players for four years. And this was a time when theflying block and the flying tackle were not barred. Jimmy had alsobeen taught that "clipping," blocking from the rear, was dangerousto the blockee and was severely penalized.
Jimmy took a few mincing steps. His compact one hundred andfifty-eight pounds left the ground and turned sideways. Jimmy's righthip struck one of the blue coats right back of the knees at thejoints. The man uttered a howl of anguish. There was a nasty snap.The man had a bad fracture that would keep him limping for therest of his life. In falling, the man's hands flailed wildly. Oneof these hands struck Jimmy squarely in the eye. Jimmy got upquickly, his normally mild brown eyes blazing. He was just in timeto see the finish.
The third man had reached for a gun. A long iron arm reached out,a large hand seized the hand with the weapon. Two men nearly ofequal height stood facing another. The eyes of one reflectedsurprise, anger and disappointment. The eyes of the other were nowthe color of cloudy ice. They were blazing with cold ferocity. Theone thing needed to drive Matthews into a murderous rage hadhappened: an assault on Professor Brierly. In addition to the vastrespect and veneration Matthews had for the old man he had atenderness for him such as a man has for his mother. Hisscientific associates would have had difficulty recognizing thebudding young scientist who showed so much promise under ProfessorBrierly's tutelage. The pressure of the fingers increased. Thefingers of the blue coated individual opened and the weapondropped.
Matthews made a sudden movement. He released one hand but held onto the other. He was now behind the blue coated back. He had theother's arm bent across the back; he was pushing it up. He had thedangerous hammer-lock, a hold barred in amateur wrestling.
The other panted chokingly:
"Let go, damn you!"
There was no answer. The pressure increased. There was a suddentightening of the already taxed muscles. There was a dull snap;the blue coated figure fell writhing to the ground.
The pilot, amazed at what was going on before him, had left theplane. He stood wide-eyed and white-faced at what he saw. Matthewsstood there panting. A thin grin, the ghost of his usual grinwrinkled his taut features.
"Don't worry," he said, "they're not policemen."
Professor Brierly had stood by, hands clenched, eyes flashing.They had started toward the hangar from which a man was runningtoward them, Matthews said, banteringly:
"What do you think of the relative value of physical as againstmental culture now, Professor. Know what these birds were after,don't you?"
Professor Brierly said resolutely:
"I have not changed my mind at all. I might have discussed it withthem. I might have--"
"Yeah," broke in Jimmy inelegantly. "As I once heard Jack say toyou, you might have slugged 'em with your culture and logic."
The old scientist glared. He burst out: "You are both--"
"Yes, Professor," interrupted Matthews, "Jimmy certainly is, allthat and then some. And Professor, did you have a good look atJimmy's left eye. Me, oh my, what a mouse. WHAT a shiner." Thethree fell silent. Matthew's hand fell on Jimmy's shoulder as theyapproached the hangar.
"I knew you were a good little man, Jimmy; I always said so. Yourcoach would have been proud of you if he could have seen it. Youearned your letter, Jimmy." The hand increased its pressure on theshoulder, dropped, and there was no further allusion to theepisode.
Jimmy went into the hangar and put in two quick telephone calls,one to his office, where the dog watch was on duty, and one toPolice Headquarters in New York City. To each he told the episodeof the pseudo policemen. New York police headquarters promisedthat they would get in touch immediately with the State police andwith the Pleasantville police. His office also promised immediateaction. He learned later that when the police arrived there was nosign of their assailants. But other and more pressing mattersengaged the attention of Professor Brierly and the reporter;matters that drove the fight out of their minds.
A short drive took them to what had once been the home of WilliamFlynn. They were at once admitted inside the police lines. McCall,from Canada, and Hite, from New York, had paved the way for them.
The explosion had not been as severe as Jimmy had been led tobelieve. Two of the lower rooms remained nearly intact and someportions of the foundation. State, county
and city police werethere, in uniform and in plain clothes. Even at this hour a hugecrowd had gathered. Newspaper representatives from all the NewYork papers from nearby towns and from news-gathering bureaus,were there.
Two state troopers and one member of the Pleasantville policeforce had been on guard outside the house when the explosionoccurred. The house was at the end of a quiet residential street.Beyond the house there was a patch of wooded ground which cut offthe view from a state road running to Tarrytown, about a hundredyards deep. The house nearest to the one that had been wrecked bythe explosion was two hundred yards distant.
One of the state troopers who had been on guard outside the housewas present when the three men arrived. His testimony was brief.
They had come to the house about seven-thirty, daylight savingtime, the night before. There were in the party seven persons, thechauffeur of the car that had taken them from the station, WilliamFlynn, three state troopers, one Federal secret service man and apoliceman from Pleasantville, who had taken the place of the NewYork policeman when their train arrived at the local station. Thecar they had taken was not a taxi, but a large public limousine,such as are used in many small towns. It held the entire party.
Mr. Flynn, a state trooper and the Federal man went into thehouse; the others stayed outside. About three minutes after thethree men had entered the house the explosion occurred.
Professor Brierly asked the trooper:
"Where was the driver of the taxi, when this happened?"
"He was right here with us, sir. He stayed a while, talking aboutthe murders of Mr. Flynn's friends. He seemed to know all aboutit."
"You say it was about three minutes after they went into thehouse?"
"It could not have been more than five minutes at most."
"Did you notice anybody on this street when you came, or beforethe explosion?"
"No, sir. We made a search afterward. You see the next five housesare closed for the summer. That means that the nearest house wherethere was anybody at the time is not less than three hundred yardsaway. There wasn't a soul on this street. After the explosion, ofcourse, there was a mob. You'd wonder where all the people camefrom in such a small town Sunday evening."
"And the three men in the house were killed outright?"
"Yes, sir."
"Did you look in the patch of woods over there?"
"No, sir. I didn't see the need for it and I was too busy keepingthe people a safe distance away. Fortunately there was no fire."
Professor Brierly went into what was left of the house. Hecarefully picked his way through the broken furniture, thecrumbling brick and mortar, twisted metal. Frank Hall, from theBureau of Combustibles, was there. He was acquainted withProfessor Brierly and he greeted the old scientist cordially,saying:
"There is some evidence, Professor, of a simple bomb filled withblack powder. I cannot find the firing device, whatever it was. Icannot find any timing device either."
"A timing device, Mr. Hall? Suppose the explosion had occurred tenminutes earlier. It happened, if I am correctly informed, onlythree minutes after he came home."
"That's all right, Professor. I thought of that, but he wasexpected much sooner, hours sooner."
Professor Brierly nodded absently. "I see," he murmured. He waslooking about him intently. Suddenly he stooped and peered at ablack mark along a strip of moulding that had fallen from somepart of the wrecked structure. He picked it up and examined itcarefully. He showed it to Mr. Hall.
"Did you see this, Mr. Hall? Looks like a burn that might havebeen made by a fuse, does it not?"
"Yes, Professor, it does, but one of the peculiarities about thiskind of thing is that it destroys its own evidence pretty much. Ifwe don't know where the lighted fuse originated and where it led,it doesn't do us much good, does it?"
"That's right, but this obviously comes from an upper room,doesn't it?"
"Yes, I believe it does. But the upper rooms are gone, you see."
"And you really think, do you Mr. Hall, that there was a timingdevice? It seems plausible to you that men who are engaged in suchdesperate business would leave such a thing to the mere chance offinding their victim home at the time their device was set to gooff?"
"Well, perhaps not, Professor, but what else is there?"
"Nothing, yet, Mr. Hall, but let us look about."
Professor Brierly, with Jimmy and Matthews close at his heels,went picking his way through the wreckage. He stepped outside andlooked carefully among the debris. The force of the explosionseemed to have propelled a major portion of the wreckage in thedirection of the backyard. It was here that Professor Brierlyfound a section of a papered wall with a telephone bell-boxattached.
He looked long and earnestly at a spot of the paper near what hadbeen the bottom of the box. With Matthews' help, he forced openthe enameled lid, exposing the wires, binding posts, terminals andbell. From among the wires he carefully picked out a frayed pieceof gray thread. He once more peered intently into the box and atthe papered area of wall to which it was attached.
"John," he said, holding the thread up for the young man'sinspection. "Does this properly belong to a telephone box of thistype?"
Matthews looked curiously at the bit of frayed thread. He shookhis head. "I can't understand what it's doing there, Professor."
"And yet, John, this bit of thread had a very definite function, avery definite and murderous function, indeed. I think I ambeginning to understand. Now let us go look for a timing device."
"But you said there wasn't any timing device, Professor,"protested Jimmy. "At any rate," answering the old man's glare,"that it appeared illogical that a timing device was employed."
"Nevertheless, Mr. Hale, there was a timing device, not the kindMr. Hall had in mind, perhaps, but some timing device. Theexplosion you will admit was timed very accurately indeed."
He walked outside, followed by his two companions. He walkedbriskly toward the patch of woods. Here he entered a faint paththat was evidently used by those who came to this street from thestate road. He walked carefully along the edge of the woodsskirting the road on which was the wrecked house. A few yards fromthe path he came to a cleared patch.
He stopped and looked about him. He pointed to the ground. Hesaid:
"Trailing is one of the accomplishments that was unfortunatelyleft out of my education. But does a man have to be an Indian toread this correctly?" He was pointing at the ground. The smallcleared space was littered with cigarette butts, rolled in brownpaper and what had once been a popular brand of tobacco. Therewere also a number of burned matches. From this patch, screened bysome undergrowth, there was a clear unobstructed sight of the lateWilliam Flynn's home.
Professor Brierly continued:
"Here is your timing device, Mr. Hale. This person, presumably oneperson, showing commendable patience, as evidenced by the numberof cigarettes, waited here. A human timing device, but a veryaccurate one is proved."
"But, Professor," protested Jimmy, "that would entail wires,buried wires, perhaps. Such wires would not be readily destroyed.Such--"
"Tut, Mr. Hale. You forget that it takes only a fraction of asecond for an electric impulse to encircle the earth. We live inmodern times. What need for clumsy wires. And yet in a sense youare right. There were buried wires.
"John," turning abruptly to his young assistant, "that path leadsto a state road. See what is at the end of that road, will you.See if there is any shop or place where there is a publictelephone."
John Matthews had started along the path when he turned abruptlyand came back.
"Professor, I'd rather Jimmy went. We'll wait here for him." Johnlooked grim as he said this. He looked meaningly at Jimmy.Professor Brierly laid his tiny hand on the big shoulder, in hiseyes an unwonted brightness. The Nordic is not a demonstrativecreature, particularly the male creature.
"You foolish boy, come on, we'll all go."
A garish filling station was diagonally opposite the path. Thefamiliar sign of the bell i
ndicated that a telephone was to be hadinside. But the place was still closed. Professor Brierly jotteddown the name on the sign. The three men returned to the wreckedhouse. After a perfunctory look about the scene, Professor Brierlyindicated that he was ready to go. On their way to the station heasked Jimmy if he would take him up to see his city editor, Hite.Jimmy, carefully restraining a grin, gravely consented.
The man who had driven them from the hangar hearing them discusstheir trip to New York, told Professor Brierly that the car, aswell as the plane, was at his disposal. They therefore, drove tothe city.
A quick breakfast at an all night lunch counter, a shave andmassage and the old man, apparently as fresh as though he hadspent the night in bed, was ready to resume his task.
On the short ride to the newspaper office, Professor Brierly'seyes fell on one of Matthews' big hands. It was an angry red andwas swollen. There was instant contrition and solicitude. The oldman touched the hand gently:
"What happened, John?"
"Say, Professor, look at Jimmy's eye. Ain't it a peach?"
"John, I asked you, what is the matter with your hand?"
"My hand, Professor, which--" Professor Brierly's ire was rising."John--"
"Oh, you mean my hand, Professor. I guess I broke a metacarpalbone. That bird had a hard jaw. Too bad I didn't use my foot," hesaid, regretfully.
"You're a savage young man," blared the old man. "Such instinctsare--"
"Shall we say--er--primitive," suggested Jimmy.