The Mystery of Tunnel 51 (Wallace of the Secret Service Series)

by Alexander Wilson

  ‘You are in a very serious position. You will be tried on three charges, two of attempted murder, and the other of having murdered a British officer, Major Elliott, in the little rail motor that goes between Simla and Kalka!’

  The fellow gazed at him almost with dignity.

  ‘It is a lie, sahib! When the Major sahib was killed I was lying on my bed of pain with a bullet in my arm.’

  ‘You will find that difficult to prove.’

  ‘The people of the house where I was lying will prove it.’

  ‘Then who killed the Major sahib?’

  ‘I do not know.’

  ‘You lie, you dog!’

  ‘I do not lie – it is the truth!’

  For a moment the Colonel thought deeply, then:

  ‘You are without doubt the man who attempted to murder the Major sahib at the house of His Excellency the Viceroy.’

  ‘It is useless to deny it,’ the native replied with a shrug. ‘The sahib knows!’

  ‘And for what purpose?’

  ‘I came not to kill him. I desired the packet of papers he carried with him, but when he awoke, I feared to be discovered so I tried to end his life. but he was lucky,’ he added with regret.

  ‘Who was your companion?’ added Wallace, speaking for the first time.

  ‘I had no companion, sahib!’

  ‘That is a lie, for he was seen in the gardens!’

  ‘The sahib knows too much!’ with another shrug. Wallace drew Sanders aside, and spoke in English, in a low voice.

  ‘That was mere conjecture on my part about the companion,’ he said, ‘but now we know he had one. No doubt they lived in the same house, and as this fellow is willing to give the address in order that the occupants can prove that he was lying there ill when the murder was committed, and thus clear himself of that charge, you had better have them all pulled in by the police and force them to say who this other is. Probably he was the actual murderer.’

  Sanders nodded.

  ‘I’ll tell Hartley to get the address and act at once!’

  ‘Get it now and make sure!’

  The Colonel looked slightly aggrieved at this, but turned to the prisoner again.

  ‘I think,’ he said, ‘that there is no doubt that you committed this murder!’

  ‘Sahib, I swear I did not – it can be proved!’

  ‘So you say, but how?’

  ‘I have told you that the people of the house where I was lying sick will prove it to you.’

  ‘And who are these people?’

  The man hesitated.

  ‘Well, if you do not give their names and addresses you will hang.’ And Sanders turned away.

  After a pause the fellow spoke again.

  ‘I must tell you, to prove that I did not do the murder!’

  ‘Well?’

  He gave some names and an address which Sanders carefully noted down.

  ‘The lowest district in the Bazaar,’ he grunted.

  ‘Keep a copy for your own reference,’ said Wallace.

  The Commissioner looked at him quizzically.

  ‘You believe in taking precautions, Sir Leonard!’ he said.

  ‘Only a fool neglects them!’ was the reply. He turned to the mechanics. ‘Untie his hands,’ he said, ‘so that he can put his rags on again!’

  The native’s hands were unbound, and he was ordered to dress himself, which he did, watched carefully the while by Woodhouse and Green.

  ‘Batty’s a long time,’ said Brien. ‘It’s nearly three!’

  ‘Yes,’ replied Wallace. ‘I am beginning to get a bit anxious about him. Is it far to headquarters?’ he asked the Colonel.

  ‘No; he should have been back before this.’

  Without taking any undue risks, Billy went to the little door, and looked out but could see no signs of anyone on the road. Ten minutes passed in silence, and Wallace was just about to speak when Brien called out:

  ‘Here they come!’

  A procession was descending the hill. First came Batty, sitting in a ricksha like a conqueror in his chariot, then came Hartley, also in a ricksha, followed by a detachment of police looking very smart in their khaki uniforms, and blue and red turbans. The sailor and Hartley dismounted at the gate, and marched across to the aeroplane at the head of the police.

  ‘Sorry I’ve been so long, sir,’ said Batty, ‘but Mr Hartley was out!’

  ‘We were getting a bit anxious,’ said Wallace, ‘and I’m glad you’ve got back safely!’

  ‘Oh, it wasn’t as dangerous as it looked, sir. The craft wobbled a bit, and she made ’eavy weather up the second ’ill, but we got up all right.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘The ricksha, sir!’

  Wallace laughed.

  ‘I wasn’t thinking about the ricksha,’ he said.

  ‘We’ve got a prisoner for you, Hartley,’ said Sanders.

  ‘So I understand, sir. Mr Batty told me what had happened!’

  ‘He is the man that broke into Viceregal Lodge, and almost murdered Major Elliott there. Here is the address where he lodged. We have discovered that he had a companion. Arrest everybody living there, and hold them under the strictest surveillance until I return! Do you understand?’

  ‘Perfectly, sir!’

  ‘Have the bomb thoroughly examined by an expert. Keep a strict guard over this fellow, and look out for trouble on your way back. There are friends of his watching in the neighbourhood. Sir Leonard Wallace was shot at a little while ago.’

  Hartley pursed up his lips in a whistle. Batty threw his topee on the ground, and started to roll up his sleeves.

  ‘The swabs!’ he roared. ‘Where are they?’

  Leonard laughed.

  ‘Don’t worry about them, Batty! You’ll probably have plenty of fighting yet!’

  The sailor picked up his topee regretfully.

  ‘I’d like to ’ave got at ’em all the same,’ he said.

  ‘Well, Hartley,’ said Sanders, ‘I think that’s all. If you have anything urgent to communicate ring up the Deputy Commissioner’s office at Lahore.’

  ‘Very well, sir!’

  He took possession of his prisoner, the knife, and the bomb. The man was placed in the centre of a double row of police and marched away. The others watched the procession file out of the gate and up the hill.

  ‘Well, now I think we’ll be off,’ said Wallace. ‘Next stop Lahore, Forsyth, and land on the racecourse! But fly in the direction of Delhi for twenty miles or so. I don’t want our destination to be known if it can be helped.’

  Five minutes later the machine rose in the air, without any further trouble having taken place, and after flying towards the south-west for twenty-five miles, she turned with her nose pointed towards Lahore.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  A Surprise for Captain Williams

  The aeroplane alighted on Lahore racecourse just before six o’clock. There were half a dozen syces exercising polo ponies in the far corner, and they stared in amazement at the unusual sight, while the ponies resented it, and shied in fright.

  ‘I had better explain to the steward about our taking possession of the course before we do anything else,’ said Sanders. ‘Then where do you want to go?’

  ‘To the Deputy Commissioner wherever he is to be found!’ replied Wallace.

  ‘Goodness knows!’ said the Colonel. ‘I don’t know his habits very well, but, if he is pious, he’ll be in church!’

  Leonard smiled.

  ‘And if he’s not?’

  ‘He’ll probably be at home, calling for the first whisky and soda! Anyhow we’ll go there and see – I’ll ring up for a car, if I can borrow a phone somewhere handy!’ And he was off.

  ‘Useful man, Sanders!’ remarked Billy, as he filled his pipe.

  ‘Very. Well, Forsyth, what are you and Hallows going to do? We shall not leave here till the morning and perhaps not then!’

  ‘We thought of looking the RAF mess up, and making
ourselves at home there. Have you any objection, Sir Leonard?’

  Wallace rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

  ‘You have probably guessed by now that we are on a special mission – it was supposed to be a secret one, but isn’t!’ He added dryly: ‘Of course you realise that you are under the orders of the Secret Service?’

  ‘We could hardly fail to know that, sir,’ smiled Forsyth.

  ‘Well, I don’t want everybody to know that we are in Lahore, if I can help it. But I suppose we have been well watched in spite of our precautions, and certainly your fellows at the depot here will have noticed the arrival of a strange aeroplane. So I don’t suppose you can do any harm by going to see them. I tell you what! Fly there and put up for the night! Tell them any old yarn you like, but don’t let anybody know that we are here on any particular business.’

  ‘We didn’t know you were, Sir Leonard!’ said Hallows quietly and significantly.

  ‘Good lad! Here comes Colonel Sanders, back with the steward I presume! We’ll tell them you are going to the depot! Be ready to start away at any time after daybreak in the morning!’

  ‘Very well, sir.’

  Sanders came up accompanied by a little rotund man who was looking sadly perplexed. The Colonel beckoned Wallace aside.

  ‘This fellow rather resents our being here, and I am sorry now I suggested the racecourse as a landing place,’ he said. ‘He has asked me a whole string of questions, but I did not tell him who we are or anything about our business. I thought there would not be the slightest objection to our alighting here! Of course I’ll use my authority if you wish!’

  ‘No, don’t do that! Forsyth and Hallows are flying to the RAF depot, and they’ll stop there for the night!’

  The Colonel sighed with relief.

  ‘I fear I made a mistake – I hope it has no unfortunate consequences!’

  ‘I hope not,’ replied Wallace grimly, and then strolled across to the steward. ‘We seem to have made a mistake in landing here,’ he said pleasantly. ‘Sorry to intrude. Can you direct those gentlemen to the Royal Air Force depot, and they will fly there. We’ll go into Lahore by car!’

  He indicated the airmen. The little man, glad to be relieved of the responsibility of sheltering a strange aircraft on the holy of holies of such a sacred place as the racecourse, nodded brightly, and proceeded to give minute directions to the pilots. The others said ‘Good night’, and strolled towards the gates, followed by Batty, who had been ordered to accompany them, with two suitcases.

  By the time they reached the exit, a car, which the Colonel had ordered, awaited their coming, and the three of them got in. Sanders gave the chauffeur the address, and soon they were speeding along Jail Road, down Race Course Road, and presently ran up a broad avenue, and stopped before a large bungalow.

  A sharp-featured man in a dark suit was reclining in a cane chair on the veranda, and by his side was a tray containing whisky and sodas.

  ‘He’s not pious,’ murmured Leonard, as the man rose, and came down the steps to meet them.

  ‘This is a surprise, Sanders,’ he said, holding out his hand to the Colonel.

  ‘A pleasant one, I hope,’ grunted the latter. ‘We want to talk to you. Can you take us somewhere where we cannot be overheard?’

  ‘Certainly. Come this way!’ said the other looking curiously at the Colonel’s companions, and leading the way along a broad hail, and into a tastefully furnished sitting room. Batty dismissed the car and waited on the veranda. The host ordered a bearer to bring drinks.

  ‘The slogan of India!’ said Wallace. ‘Whisky and soda; lao juldee.’

  Sanders immediately introduced Mr Deputy Commissioner Rainer to Leonard and Brien, and as he shook hands with Wallace, the Commissioner looked at him with great interest.

  ‘I had a code message from Delhi this morning, Sir Leonard,’ he said, ‘relative to a squad of men standing by day and night for word from you to conduct a raid at some address to be given.’

  ‘I’m glad the message has been circulated,’ replied Wallace, ‘but there was no necessity to give any names. However—’

  The bearer entered and supplied the four men with drinks, then withdrew. Rainer closed the doors.

  ‘We shall be quite unheard here, Sir Leonard,’ he said, ‘and I am entirely at your service.’

  ‘Do you know a firm of the name of Ata Ullah in Lohari Mandi Street?’ asked Wallace abruptly.

  ‘Very well. It is a large stationery and printing business!’

  ‘Apparently, yes; but in reality the headquarters of Russian Soviet agents who are occupied in flooding this country with propaganda, and endeavouring to turn the people against Great Britain.’ And he gave a short, concise account of the Russian activities in India.

  The other whistled in astonishment.

  ‘I have reason to know that the plans that were stolen from Major Elliott are there at present,’ Wallace continued, ‘and the fact that the place is a stationery and printing business strengthens my belief that several copies are being made of them; hence the delay in Lahore.’

  ‘But I thought you said that Williams had them?’ put in Sanders.

  ‘Williams certainly had them, but he handed them over either to Levinsky, or to someone else, to be copied.’

  Rainer gazed at them in amazement.

  ‘You don’t mean the Captain Williams who was with Elliott when he was murdered, Sir Leonard?’ he asked.

  Wallace nodded.

  ‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘I have only circumstantial evidence against him, but it is very good evidence all the same, and I have no doubt whatever that he is a Russian agent, and stole the plans!’

  ‘Good Lord!’ ejaculated the other weakly, and mixed himself another drink. ‘Why,’ he went on, ‘he has been a friend of ours for some time, and only last evening had several dances with my daughter at the club.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but there you are. Now the sooner those premises are raided, the surer we shall be of getting the plans, and the copies as well. The originals, I know, are to be taken to Karachi by the mail train that leaves here tomorrow night, so the raid must be conducted tonight!’

  ‘Tonight!’

  ‘Yes! Are your men in readiness?’

  ‘Quite!’

  ‘Where are they?’

  ‘At the Anarkali police station!’

  ‘Is that far from Lohari Mandi Street?’

  ‘No, only about ten or twelve minutes’ walk!’

  ‘Splendid! Now please describe this street to me!’

  Rainer did so, and Wallace listened carefully. At the end of the recital he smiled.

  ‘You remind me of Kipling,’ he remarked. ‘What was it he called the City of Lahore – the City of a Thousands Nights, wasn’t it? I suppose we can be pretty certain that the place will be thronged at all hours of the night!’

  ‘Oh yes – it never sleeps!’

  ‘Well, I’m sorry to disturb your Sunday evening, Mr Rainer, but matters are urgent. Will you go along to the Anarkali police station and see that all these men of yours proceed to Lohari Mandi Street in the guise of bullock drivers, tonga wallahs and anything else you like, singly and in twos, and that they are all in the neighbourhood of Ata Ullah’s at ten o’clock. It is now seven, so there are three hours. I also want three or four of your best native detectives to proceed in some good disguise to a bungalow known as “Outram” in Davis Road.’

  ‘Why, that’s Silverman’s place!’ exclaimed Rainer.

  ‘Quite so! His proper name is Levinsky, and he is one of the most trusted spies in the service of the Russian Government, and a very dangerous man to boot.’

  ‘Good Heavens!’ The local Commissioner looked dumbfounded. ‘First Williams, now Silverman! I shall suspect everybody for the future!’

  ‘Not a bad idea!’ said Wallace. ‘Now, Billy.’ He turned to his second in command. ‘I want you to act in conjunction with the detectives. Remain near Levinsky’s bungalow in as powerful a car as Mr Rainer c
an place at your disposal. You must arrange some system of signals with the detectives, so that they can warn you of his movements. He may have a copy, or copies, of the plans there, and, if he is warned, try to get away with them. In that case you must follow him to the ends of India, or the world, if need be!’

  Billy nodded.

  ‘And what are you going to do?’ he asked suspiciously.

  ‘First of all I’m going to take a hurried run out to the Cantonments with Colonel Sanders and help him arrest Williams. Then I am coming back, and I am going to disguise myself as a native, if Mr Rainer will be good enough to lend me a room where I can be entirely private.’ The Commissioner nodded. ‘I will then proceed to Lohari Mandi Street and – listen carefully, Rainer! – I will blow three blasts on a whistle at ten precisely, and at that signal your men must get into Ata Ullah’s and arrest everybody in there. Is that quite understood?’

  ‘Yes, Sir Leonard! I shall be there myself, and keep in the background until you whistle!’

  ‘Good! But don’t let yourself be seen and recognised.’

  ‘Of course, you would choose the most dangerous and interesting job for yourself!’ grumbled Billy.

  ‘I have an idea you may find yours the most exciting of all before you’re through with it. If nothing happens wait by the bungalow until I join you. And now, Rainer, will you take Major Brien with you to the police station, so that he can get to know the detectives, and they him. And explain things to them for him – I haven’t had time to get a munshi for him yet.’ He grinned slyly at Brien.

  ‘What about darkening your face, and getting some native clothes, Sir Leonard?’ asked Sanders.

  Wallace smiled.

  ‘Batty has everything in a suitcase outside. And I’ll take him with me to dry-nurse me,’ he added to Billy, who grunted.

  ‘You must have some dinner!’ said Rainer.

  ‘Thanks, there won’t be time for that, but perhaps you will give orders for a few sandwiches to be given to my man who will keep them for me, until I get back from the Cantonments. What about Mrs Rainer? You’ll have to make some excuse to her!’

  ‘She and my daughter are out, luckily, and won’t be back till late, so that saves explanations.’