The Bomb-Makers

by William Le Queux

public--"

  "All these years!" echoed Ortmann, interrupting her. "Why, you are notmuch more than twenty now, Ella!"

  "And think, I've already been twelve years on the stage--a life hardenough, I can tell you!"

  "Yes, I know," remarked the Count. "But you'll forget all about yourfriend Commander Kennedy some day, I expect, and marry a wealthy man."

  Ella's eyebrows contracted for a few seconds.

  "Well--perhaps," she said. "But I may yet marry Mr Kennedy, you know!"

  Count Ernst Ortmann smiled--a hard evil expression upon his heavy lips.He held Seymour Kennedy in distinct suspicion.

  Indeed, when Ella had gone and he was standing with old Drost in thedining-room, he remarked:

  "I still entertain very grave suspicions regarding that fellow Kennedy.Couldn't you keep Ella away from him? Could not we part them somehow?While they are in love a distinct danger exists. He may learn somethingat any moment. My information is that he is particularly shrewd atinvestigations, and he may suspect. If so, then the game might veryeasily be up."

  "Bah! Do not anticipate any such _contretemps_. He knows nothing--takethat from me. We have nothing whatever to fear in that direction,"Drost assured him. "If I thought so I should very soon take steps topart them."

  "How would you accomplish that?"

  Theodore Drost's narrow face--broad at the brow and narrow at the chin--puckered in a smile.

  "It would not be at all difficult," he said, with a mysteriousexpression. "I have something upstairs which would very soon effect ourpurpose and leave no trace--if it were necessary."

  "But it _is_ necessary," the Count declared.

  "One day it may be," Drost said. "But not yet."

  "Your girl is in love with him, and I suppose you think it a pity to--well, to spoil their romance, even in face of all that Germany has atstake!" remarked the Count, with an undisguised sneer. "Ah, my dearDrost! you pose as a Dutch pastor, but do you not remember our Germanmotto: _Der beste prediger ist der Zeit_?" (Time is the best preacher.)

  "Yes, yes," replied the old man with the scraggy beard. "But pleaserely upon my wits. My eyes are open, and I assure you there is nothingwhatever at present to fear."

  "Very well, Drost," Answered the Count. "I submit to your widerknowledge. But now that the girl has gone, we may as well go upstairs--eh? You've, of course, seen in to-night's paper that Merton Mansfieldis to address the munition-makers in the Midlands in a fortnight'stime."

  Old Drost again smiled mysteriously, and said:

  "I knew that quite a fortnight ago. Schrieber has been north. Hereturned only last Tuesday."

  "Did you send him north?"

  "I did. He went upon a mission. As you know, I am generally well aheadwith any plans I make."

  "Plans! What are they? Really, my dear Theodore, you are a perfectmarvel of clever inventiveness!"

  Ella's father shrugged his shoulders, and in his deep guttural Germanreplied:

  "I am only doing my duty as a good loyal son of our own Fatherland."

  "Well spoken," declared the Count. "There is a good and just rewardawaiting you after the war, never fear! Our Emperor does not forgetservices rendered. Let us go upstairs--eh? I am anxious to learn whatyou suggest."

  The pair ascended the stairs to the carefully locked room in the roof,that long, well-equipped laboratory wherein Theodore Drost spent so manyhours daily experimenting in the latest discovered high-explosives.After Drost had switched on the light he carefully closed the door, andthen, crossing to a long deal cupboard where hung several cottonoveralls to protect his clothes against the splash of acids, he took outhis military gas-masks--those hideous devices with rubber mouth-piecesand mica eye-holes, as used by our men at the front.

  "It is always best to take precautions," Drost said, as he handed hiscompanion and taskmaster a helmet. "You may find it a little stiflingat first, but it is most necessary."

  Both put on the masks, after which Drost handed the Count a pair ofrubber gloves. These Ortmann put on, watching Drost, who did the same.

  "It is a good job, Count, that we are alone in the house, otherwise Icould do no work. The gas is heavy, and any escaping from here willfall to the basement. One fourteen-thousandth part in air, and theresult must be fatal. There is no known antidote. Ah!" he laughed,"these poor, too-confiding English little dream of our latter-daydiscoveries--scientific discoveries by which we hold all the honours inthe game of war."

  "Very well," grunted the Count. "Let us hope that our science is betterthan that of our enemies. But I confess that to-day I have doubts.These British have made most wonderful strides--the most amazingprogress in their munitions and devices."

  While he spoke old Drost was, with expert hand, mixing certaincompounds, grey and bright-green crystals, which he pounded in a mortar.Then, carefully weighing with his apothecary's scales several grammesof a fine white powder, he added it and, while the Count, still wearinghis ugly mask, watched, mixed a measured quantity of water and placedthe whole into a big glass retort which was already in a holder warmedby the pale-blue flame of a spirit-lamp.

  Suddenly Drost made a gesture to his companion, and while the liquid inthe retort was bubbling, he attached to the narrow end of the retort anarrangement of bent glass tube, and proceeded to distil the liquid hehad produced.

  This product, which fell drop by drop into a long test-tube, was of abright-blue colour. Drop by drop fell that fatal liquid--fatal becauseit gave off a poison-gas against which no human being could exist formore than five seconds.

  "This," exclaimed Drost, his voice muffled by his mask, "is the mostfatal of any gas that chemical science has yet discovered. It does notmerely asphyxiate and leave bad symptoms afterwards, but it killsoutright in a few seconds. It is absolutely deadly."

  The room had by that time become filled by a curious orange-colouredvapour--bright-orange--which to Ortmann's eyes was an extraordinaryphenomenon. Had he not worn the protective mask he would have beeninstantly overwhelmed by an odour closely resembling that of cloves--aterribly fatal perfume, which would sweep away men like moths passingthrough the flame of a candle.

  "Well, my dear Drost," said the Count, "I know you will never rest untilyou've devised a means of carrying out our plans for the downfall ofMerton Mansfield, and certainly you seem to have adopted some measure--deadly though it may be--which is quite in accord with your ingenuity."He also spoke in a low, stifled voice from within his ugly mask.

  Drost nodded, and then into the marble mortar, in which he had mixed hisdevilish compounds, he poured something from a long blue glass-stopperedbottle, whereupon the place instantly became filled with volumes of greysmoke which, when it cleared, left the atmosphere perfectly clear--soclear, indeed, that both men removed their masks, sniffing, however, atthe faint odour of cloves still remaining.

  Afterwards the old chemist took from the cupboard a small cardboard boxwhich, on opening, contained, carefully packed in cotton wool, a short,stout, but hollow needle. Attached to it at one end was a small steelbox about two inches broad and the same high. The box was perforated atintervals.

  "This is the little contrivance of which I spoke," said Drost gleefully,as he gazed upon it in admiration. "The explosive needle, when filled,and this little chamber, also properly charged, cannot fail to act."

  "I take it, my dear friend, that it will be automatic--eh?" remarked theCount, examining it with interest.

  Old Drost smiled, nodded, and replaced his precious contrivance in itsbox, after which both men left the laboratory, Drost carefully lockingthe door before descending the stairs to follow his companion.

  Both of them took a taxi to the fine house in Park Lane where Ortmannassumed the _role_ of society man. At ten o'clock a visitor was usheredin, and proved to be the young man whose real name was Schrieber.Apparently he had just returned from a journey, and had come straightfrom the station in order to make some secret report to Ortmann.

  When the three we
re closeted together the young German, who passed as aSwiss, produced from his pocket three small photographs showing theinterior of a room taken from different angles, but always showing thefireplace.

  "Excellent!" declared Drost, as he examined all three prints beneath thestrong light. "You have done splendidly."

  "Yes, all is in readiness. I have made friends with the maids, and whenI return I shall be welcomed. No breath of suspicion will be aroused.We have now but to wait our time."

  And the three conspirators--men who were working so secretly, yet withsuch dastardly intent in the enemy's cause--laughed as they helpedthemselves to cigars from the big silver box.

  Nearly three weeks passed when, one day while Seymour Kennedy wassitting in Ella's pretty little drawing-room, he accidentally noticedthe artistic blue-and-white vase, and remarking how unusual was theshape, his beloved related how it had come into her possession.

  Kennedy reflected for a few seconds, his brows knit in deep thought.

  "Curious that your father desired to match a vase like this! With whatobject, I wonder?"

  "He told me that he wanted it for a friend."

  "H'm! I wonder why his friend was so eager to match it?" was theair-pilot's remark. "And, again, why did he send you to buy it, whenhis friend could surely have done so?"

  Ella was silent. That question had never occurred to her.

  "I wonder if your father is making some fresh experiment? Have you beento the laboratory lately?" he inquired.

  "No, dear."

  "A secret visit there might be worth while," he suggested. "Meanwhile,the question of this vase excites my curiosity considerably. I can'thelp thinking that Ortmann is at the bottom of some other vile trickery.Their failure to kill Merton Mansfield has, no doubt, made them all themore determined to deal an effective _coup_."

  Some five days later it was announced in the London papers that MrMerton Mansfield, the man in whom Great Britain placed her principaltrust in securing victory, would, on the following Thursday, address amass meeting of the munition workers in the great Midland town of G--.The object of the meeting was to urge greater enthusiasm in theprosecution of the war, and to induce the workers, in the nationalcause, to forego their holidays and thus keep up the output of heavyshells and high-explosives.

  Seymour Kennedy, who was in the mess at the time, read the paragraph,and then sat pondering.

  Next day he induced his commanding officer to give him leave, and he wassoon in London making active inquiries. He found that Mr MertonMansfield had been compelled to decline the invitation of LordHeatherdale, and had arranged to stay the night at the Central StationHotel at G--, as he would have to return to London by the first trainnext morning.

  Mr Merton Mansfield was an extremely busy man. No member of theCabinet held greater responsibility upon his shoulders, and certainly noman held higher and stronger views of British patriotism. Any wordsfrom his lips were listened to eagerly, and carefully weighed, not onlyhere, but in neutral countries also. Hence, at this great meeting hewas expected to reveal one or two matters of paramount interest, andalso make a further declaration of British policy.

  On the Tuesday night--two days before the meeting--Flight-CommanderKennedy slept at the Central Hotel in G--and next morning returned toLondon.

  Next night--or rather at early morning--Ella silently opened the frontdoor of her father's house at Barnes, and her lover slipped innoiselessly, the pair afterwards ascending to the secret laboratorywhich his well-beloved opened with her duplicate key. Without muchdifficulty they opened the cupboard and examined the contents of thesmall cardboard box--discovering the curious-looking needle attached tothe little perforated steel box.

  "This place smells of cloves--doesn't it?" whispered Seymour.

  "Yes, darling. I've smelt the same smell for some days. Father said hehad upset a bottle of oil of cloves."

  "This is certainly a most curious apparatus!" Kennedy whispered,holding the needle in his hand. "See, this box is not a bomb. It isperforated to allow some perfume--or, more likely, a poison-gas--toescape. The needle is certainly an explosive one!"

  Further search revealed a small clockwork movement not much larger thanthat of a good-sized watch, together with a small bag of bird's sand.

  Having made a thorough search, they replaced things exactly as they hadfound them, and then Kennedy crept forth again into the broadthoroughfare called Castelnau.

  "Those devils mean mischief again!" he muttered to himself as he hurriedacross Hammersmith Bridge. "That explosive needle is, I can quite see,a most diabolical invention. Drost surely has the inventive brains ofSatan himself!"

  At that same hour the young man Schrieber was seated with Ortmann inPark Lane, listening to certain instructions, until at last he rose togo.

  "And, remember--trust in nobody!" Ortmann urged. "If you perform thisservice successfully, our Fatherland will owe you a very deep debt ofgratitude--one which I will personally see shall not be forgotten."

  At midday on Thursday Kennedy and Ella left St Pancras station for G--,arriving there three hours later, and taking rooms at the Central Hotel.

  As soon as Ella entered hers, she was astonished to see upon themantelshelf a pair of the same blue-and-white vases as those her fatherhad asked her to match!

  When, ten minutes later, she rejoined Kennedy in the lounge, she toldhim of her discovery.

  "Yes," was his reply. "They are the same in all the rooms--one of thefads of the proprietor. But," he added, "you must not be seen here. Wedon't know who is coming from London by the next train."

  For that reason Ella retired to her room and did not leave it for somehours, not indeed till her lover came to tell her that all was clear.

  By that time Mr Merton Mansfield had arrived, eaten a frugal dinner,and had gone to the meeting.

  "That young man Schrieber has arrived also," Kennedy told her. "He'snever seen me, so he suspects nothing. He has also gone to the meeting,therefore we can go down and have something to eat."

  That night at eleven o'clock Mr Merton Mansfield returned, was cheeredloudly by a huge crowd gathered outside the hotel, and waited belowchatting for nearly half-an-hour before he retired to his room.

  The room was numbered 146--the best room of a suite on the first floor--and to this room the young German, the catspaw of Ortmann, had goneabout a quarter past eleven, gaining admission through the privatesitting-room next door.

  On entering he, quick as lightning, took down one of the vases from themantelshelf and replaced it by another exactly similar which he drewfrom beneath the light coat thrown over his arm. Then, carrying thevase with him concealed by his coat, he slipped quickly out againunobserved, not, however, before he had poured into the other vase somebird-sand so as to make them both of equal weight when the maid came todust them on the morrow. The conspirators left nothing to chance.

  In that innocent-looking vase he had brought was one of the mostdiabolical contrivances ever invented by man's brain. To the explosiveneedle the tiny clock had been attached and set to strike at half-pasttwo, an hour when the whole hotel would be wrapped in slumber. Theeffect of striking would be to explode the needle and thus break a thinglass tube of a certain liquid and set over a piece of sponge saturatedby a second liquid. The mixing of the two liquids would produce thatterribly deadly poison-gas which, escaping through the perforation, mustcause almost instant death to any person sleeping in the room.

  Truly, it was a most diabolical death-trap.

  Ten minutes later Mr Merton Mansfield, quite unsuspicious, entered theroom and retired to bed, an example followed by the assassin Schrieber,who had a room on the same corridor a little distance away.

  At nine o'clock next morning Seymour Kennedy, bright and spruce in hisuniform, descended to the hall and inquired of the head-porter if MrMerton Mansfield had left.

  "Mr Mansfield is an early bird, sir. He went away to London by the6:47 train."

  The air-pilot turned upon his hee
l with a sigh of relief.

  Two hours later, however, while seated in the lounge with Ella, prior toreturning to London, Kennedy noticed that there was much whisperingamong the staff. Of the porter he inquired the reason.

  "Well, sir," the man replied, "it seems that a maid on the first floor,on going into one of the rooms this morning, found a visitor dead inbed--Mr Sommer, a Swiss gentleman who arrived last night. The placesmells strongly of cloves, and the poor girl has also been taken veryill, for the fumes in the place nearly asphyxiated her."

  Seymour again returned to Ella and told her what had occurred.

  "But how did you manage it?" she asked in a low whisper.

  "Well, after watching Schrieber put the vase in the room, I enteredafter him and replaced it by the vase you had bought, afterwards takingthe one with the explosive needle to Schrieber's room and carrying awaythe superfluous one. The man must have glanced at the pair of vases onhis mantelshelf before sleeping, but he, of course, never dreamed thathe was gazing upon the infernal contrivance that he had placed in theMinister's room with his own hand."

  "I see," exclaimed Ella. "And, surely, he richly deserved his fate!"

  The deadly contrivance was found when the room was searched, but thepolice of G--still regard the affair as a complete and inexplicablemystery.

  CHAPTER FIVE.

  THE BRASS TRIANGLE.

  A bank of dense fog hung over the Thames early on that December morning.The bell of St Paul's Church, at