The Mystery of Tunnel 51

by Alexander Wilson

At that moment the owner of the revolver rose, and picked up a topee; the others grouped themselves round him, and the big man, with one hand on his shoulder, appeared to be giving him some advice. Then he shook hands with them all and turned towards the door of the room.

  ‘He’s coming out!’ muttered Leonard. ‘We’ll follow him and see what he is up to. Let us get out of here and hide somewhere!’

  They hurried quietly out of the lane, and had scarcely time to crouch in a doorway before the man came out and set off at a quick pace up the road. The two watchers carefully started to follow him.

  ‘Go back and discharge the taxi, Bill, and rejoin me. As he’s walking we won’t want it any longer!’

  Without a word Brien was off. Wallace continued his tracking, taking advantage of all the cover he could find. However, the man looked neither to the left nor right, but went on as though he were in a great hurry. He appeared to be going in the direction from which they had come and at last just as Billy glided quietly up, it dawned upon Leonard where the fellow was bound for.

  ‘I think he is off to carry out a nice little murder plot,’ he whispered.

  ‘Good Lord! That would certainly explain the silencer. But whom do you think he is going to murder?’

  ‘Us!’

  Brien gave a start and whistled softly.

  ‘He’s not!’ he said between his teeth.

  ‘No, but he thinks he is. Get behind me! Two are easier to see than one and we’re getting out into the open, although it’s pretty dark, thank Goodness!’

  The assassin, if assassin he were, now began to show more caution. Two or three times he stopped and looked behind, and his pursuers had much difficulty in concealing themselves effectively, but there were several trees behind which they could hide, and the night was too dark for anything to be seen clearly at a distance. After going on for what seemed an interminable time they came to the open space in which the aeroplane stood.

  ‘So I was right!’ muttered Wallace. ‘They must be pretty desperate!’

  ‘And we told the girls there would be no danger!’ murmured Brien.

  Carefully they followed him from the road towards the great plane. When quite close to it they lay down behind a bush and watched him. A makeshift tent had been put up for Batty and the two mechanics, and the fellow warily approached this and was for some time busily engaged on the ground before the opening.

  ‘What on earth is he doing?’ said Billy.

  ‘Goodness knows! By Jove, yes I do, though. He’s stretching a cord across, so that they’ll fall over and give him time to get away if they’re disturbed and come out.’

  Brien whistled quietly.

  Presently the man rose, and went to the small door leading into the aeroplane saloon, and carefully, gently, opened it.

  ‘Come on, Billy,’ said Wallace. ‘We don’t want to risk letting Forsyth or Hallows get shot. Have you a revolver with you?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Neither have I. Never mind, come on! Quickly does it!’

  They were up, and had sped across the intervening space before the intruder noticed them. And then he swung round with his revolver levelled. Before he had time to fire, Billy had knocked his arm up, and there was a soft thud, as the weapon went off. Then there was a terrific struggle; the fellow fought like a wild cat, and it was all Brien could do with his two arms, and Wallace with his one, to prevent him from slipping away. But the noise awoke the others. There were yells and curses as Batty and his companions fell over the stretched cord, but the two pilots dashed out of the saloon, and in response to Wallace’s yell, came to their assistance. Soon the man was disarmed and rendered helpless, and the mechanics, aided by Batty’s sailorly advice, were busily and thoroughly engaged trussing him up, as the little sailor remarked, ‘taut fore and aft!’

  ‘A little fellow who came to murder us!’ explained Brien, in reply to a string of questions.

  ‘Take turns in guarding him!’ said Wallace to Batty and the airmen. ‘Don’t let him get away whatever you do!’

  ‘He won’t get away, sir!’ said Batty with a glitter in his eyes. ‘I’ll keelhaul him if he tries!’

  ‘Doesn’t seem to me he can try anything – even breathe,’ laughed Hallows.

  The four entered the saloon, leaving Batty and his companions with the prisoner.

  ‘Well, I think we’ve had a very merry evening!’ yawned Leonard. ‘And now I’m going to sleep.’

  Forsyth and Hallows were told a little – a very little – of the evening’s adventures, as Wallace and Brien prepared for bed.

  ‘This is a nice little keepsake!’ said the latter, handing the revolver round. The others curiously examined the silencer attached to it.

  ‘Just another specimen for our museum!’ said Wallace, and went to bed.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  An Interrogation in Mid-Air

  Arising at daybreak Wallace went to visit his prisoner.

  ‘Take him into the aeroplane!’ he said to Batty. ‘And don’t breathe a word to anybody about his capture. If you are questioned, know nothing about it, and express astonishment.’

  He repeated his warning to Forsyth and Hallows.

  ‘I don’t suppose you will be asked,’ he added, ‘but you might be in a roundabout sort of way. We’ll take him to Delhi with us. A little trip might do him good!’

  The others grinned. The fellow was duly packed inside the saloon, and Leonard contemplated him.

  ‘Well, my man,’ he said, ‘you have got yourself into a nasty mess. We cannot spare the time to wait and prosecute you here, so we’ll take you to Delhi with us and hand you over to the authorities there!’

  All he got in reply was a baleful glance, for the fellow had been very effectually gagged.

  ‘I suppose you find that sponge in your mouth rather troublesome; but it will be removed as soon as we are in the clouds.’

  Wallace walked out, and joined Brien who was talking to a native.

  ‘I’m practising Hindustani,’ grinned Billy. ‘I don’t seem to have remembered much.’

  ‘I don’t think I’ve remembered any, excepting whisky and soda lao and juldee!’ Thereupon he promptly contradicted himself by speaking fluently, much to the Indian’s delight.

  ‘You old rotter,’ said Brien. ‘Fancy taking a rise out of me like that!’

  ‘Never mind, Bill. We’ll engage a munshi for you!’

  There were very few people to see them off. It was too early for one thing and probably the freezing manner in which their reception had been treated had kept a good many away. But the Deputy Commissioner was there, and Wallace and Brien had a friendly little chat with him before Forsyth announced that everything was in readiness. As they shook hands:

  ‘There is a certain house here, Major Watkins,’ said Leonard, ‘in which I have a deep interest. If you receive a telegram or a phone message from me giving you the address, will you immediately see that everyone in it is arrested, and anyone going in also taken into custody until I arrive?’

  The Commissioner looked puzzled.

  ‘Well,’ he said, ‘it is rather a serious thing to do, but, of course, if you give me such instructions I’ll carry them out!’

  ‘Good! And please keep your own counsel. You may be sure that I shall have a very good reason for such a drastic measure, and you’ll get a surprise when you know the address.’

  ‘I’m used to surprises,’ smiled the Major. ‘Goodbye, Sir Leonard!’

  They were just about to enter the saloon when Brien grasped his friend’s arm.

  ‘The man with a beard, and one of the others, is here and he’s coming across to us!’

  ‘Probably wants to find out if we’ve discovered anything. Careful, Bill!’

  The burly man came up to them.

  ‘Excuse me, Sir Leonard,’ he said, ‘but owing to the crush I couldn’t get near you last evening and hesitated to intrude on you before. My name is Waller, and I was wondering if I could ask you to do me a favour!’


  ‘Well,’ smiled Wallace, ‘I am hardly going round on a philanthropic expedition, but if I can—’

  ‘It is quite a small matter,’ interrupted the other hastily. ‘You are going to Delhi, I believe, and perhaps you may see Sir Henry Muir, the Viceroy’s Chief Secretary?’

  Leonard nodded.

  ‘Would you be good enough to tell him that the consignment of goods he sent home per my firm was dispatched on The City of Edinburgh, and that I have been delayed in replying to his letter owing to pressure of business, but will write as soon as possible?’

  ‘That’s not a very difficult matter. Yes, I’ll do it with pleasure!’

  ‘Very many thanks! I must apologise for making such a request!’

  ‘Don’t mention it!’ And Wallace turned away.

  ‘I’m afraid you have not seen much of Karachi!’ said the other quickly.

  ‘I’m not very keen to see much!’ said Leonard looking him straight in the face. ‘The only thing I am grateful to Karachi for is that it gave me the first good night’s rest I’ve had since I left England!’

  He nodded and waved his hand to the Commissioner, then climbed aboard with Brien. A few moments later the great aeroplane rose, and was on her way to Delhi.

  Billy sat down and chuckled.

  ‘What a lot of information he received!’ he said. ‘I like the good night’s rest touch – it was delightful!’

  ‘We’ve left him a badly-puzzled man, Billy. We’re not murdered as he expected and his friend has disappeared. Still, I suppose his real object was to discover if by any chance he was suspected, and he’ll go away in happy innocence, bless his kind heart. Of course, even if he thinks we have this object,’ he pointed to the man lying on the floor, ‘he feels perfectly certain that it won’t give anything away!’

  ‘Rather a clever touch that consignment of Muir’s. Bound to be true, of course!’

  ‘Oh, yes. He wouldn’t bring himself under suspicion by concocting such a tale. At any rate I’ll give Muir the message. Untie your prisoner, Batty!’ he added to his man, who was standing guard over the recumbent captive.

  It took some time, for the latter had been bound by experts. At last the fellow was free and he rose to his feet very shakily.

  ‘Sorry to have inconvenienced you for so long,’ said Wallace dryly, ‘but it was very necessary!’

  ‘What is the meaning – of this – this outrage?’ gasped out the other in fury.

  ‘Oh, just a little game!’ said Leonard sarcastically. ‘You pretended that you came to murder us and we pretended to capture you and tie you up and now we’re pretending to take you to Delhi with us and hand you over to the authorities!’

  ‘On what charge?’ spluttered the man.

  ‘Attempted murder!’

  ‘What absolute nonsense! I came to see you because I had a little request to make, and was set upon and man-handled in the most brutal fashion!’

  ‘Do you generally creep quietly upon sleeping men with a revolver in your hand, attached to which is a useful little silencer, to make your requests?’

  ‘I drew the revolver because I was attacked!’

  ‘And tied a cord for the occupants of the tent to fall over for the same reason, I suppose?’

  The fellow hesitated.

  ‘What – what cord?’ he stammered at last.

  ‘Enough of this nonsense!’ said Wallace, a stern note in his voice. ‘You had better make a clean breast of the whole affair!’

  ‘I am perfectly innocent of any of the accusations you have made against me!’

  ‘Don’t tell lies! We, Major Brien and I, followed you all the way here, first having watched you in consultation with Waller and your other friends, and the exhibition of this pretty little toy.’ He held up the revolver.

  The man’s face blanched. He saw that the game was up, and from outraged dignity his manner changed to utter fright. He seemed to shrink in size as he stood, and both Brien and Batty, as well as Wallace, looked at him with contempt. The latter continued:

  ‘The best thing you can do is to tell us everything; it may help you slightly in the long run: I make no promises and it is immaterial to me whether you say anything or not.’

  ‘There – there is nothing to tell!’

  ‘Very well! If that is the attitude you mean to take, you will also be prepared to stand your trial on a charge of attempted murder as well as being a spy in the pay of the Russian Government.’

  A shivering almost as of ague overcame the man. For a few minutes he could not speak. Then,

  ‘And if I – I – speak?’

  Wallace shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘We may consider dropping the charge of attempted murder!’

  There was nothing more said for a minute or two. The roar of the engine could be heard as the aeroplane tore on her way, and a tremor occasionally ran through the machine and made the four men stagger slightly. Wallace stood gazing sternly at the spy and Brien was engaged in closely examining the silencer on the revolver and apparently trying to discover the principle on which it worked. Batty looked from one to the other and awaited results, while the captive himself stood with his head bowed down. At last he looked up.

  ‘What do you want to know?’ he asked.

  ‘It all depends,’ replied Wallace, ‘upon what you can tell us. We know so much that it would be quite useless your attempting to lead us astray. In order that you may not let your imagination get the better of you, I will tell you this much: there are several places in India, which pretend to be honest commercial firms, but which in reality are the headquarters or meeting houses for spies of the Russian Government, who are in India for the purpose of creating trouble and distributing pamphlets against Great Britain to the inhabitants. I have addresses in my pocket of these places, one of which is in Karachi. Again certain plans were stolen from a British officer who was murdered, and are in the possession of the Russians! I intend to recover those plans!’

  He paused and Billy looked at him in surprise. It seemed to the latter that Wallace was showing his hand rather recklessly. For a moment the spy appeared dumbfounded, then smiled.

  ‘I am afraid you are much too late, Sir Leonard!’ he said. ‘Those plans are in Russia by now!’

  ‘Did I not tell you,’ said Wallace, ‘that it would be useless your attempting to lead us astray? The plans I speak of are not in Russia nor anywhere near that country, and I happen to know where they are!’

  Billy gasped and a look of utter astonishment came on the face of the spy. After a moment:

  ‘There seems to be nothing I can tell you,’ he said.

  ‘Not much! A link here and there, that’s all! However, it is difficult to hear distinctly now, we’ll wait till Delhi is reached. In the meantime what is your name?’

  ‘Wainwright!’

  ‘I didn’t ask you for the name you go under, I want your proper name.’

  ‘Boris – Leopold Boris.’

  ‘H’m! And how is it you speak English without a trace of accent?’

  The man hesitated.

  ‘Come on! If you want any leniency at all, you must answer my questions!’

  ‘I was educated in England, and I joined the firm of Waller and Redmond in that country.’

  ‘So there is a branch in England, is there?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I see! Whereabouts?’

  ‘In Clerkenwell, London.’

  ‘I suppose Waller and Redmond are also fictitious names?’

  ‘No! The firm was quietly bought by the present owners four years ago, and remained under its own name.’

  ‘That’s interesting! The present proprietors, no doubt, are working under orders of the Russian Government?’

  After a moment’s hesitation the fellow nodded.

  ‘And the man who calls himself Waller is, of course, not entitled to that name at all?’

  ‘No, Sir Leonard.’

  ‘What is his name?’

  A look of fear pa
ssed over the features of the spy, and he did not answer.

  ‘Come! What is his name?’

  ‘I would rather not say.’

  ‘Very well! You know my conditions!’ He shrugged his shoulders and turned away. ‘Keep your eyes well glued to him, Batty!’ he ordered, and sank into a chair.

  Presently the spy spoke hoarsely.

  ‘If he knew I gave his name away my life would not be worth a moment’s purchase,’ he said.

  ‘I don’t think you need fear him,’ said Leonard, and languidly turned in his chair. ‘He will be where he can harm nobody very soon!’

  ‘When the firm was bought,’ said the man, almost eagerly now, ‘Mr Waller came out to India as the son of the old owner; letters having been sent from England to notify the people in Karachi of his coming. His proper name is—’ again he hesitated; then, ‘is – Dorin!’

  Brien whistled, and exchanged a glance with his colleague who was smiling grimly.

  ‘And is there a Redmond out here?’ asked Wallace.

  ‘No, Sir Leonard!’

  ‘I see! Then Dorin, alias Waller junior, is the sole managing representative in Karachi?’

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘But not in India!’

  The fellow started.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘The managing director of the firm of Waller and Redmond that is the “Russian Soviet Limited” in India is – Who?’ He shot the question at the spy almost savagely.

  ‘Lev—’ blurted out the man in surprise, then went on hastily, a look of utter terror on his face, ‘I don’t know – I don’t think there is one!’

  ‘So Levinsky is running things!’ Wallace said to Brien. ‘We’re up against something out here, Billy! I won’t bother you any more just now,’ he added to the spy, who was white with fear and trembling like a leaf. ‘You’d better sit down! Take him into the other apartment, Batty!’

  Billy, standing with his hands in his pockets, looked at his friend and chief in amazement.

  ‘You’re a devil!’ he said admiringly. ‘But I thought you weren’t going to question him till we reached Delhi?’

  ‘Those were only a few preliminaries! By Jove, I’d like a smoke!’