Dr. Mabuse, master of mystery a novel
No other desire now possessed her than to yield her senses once more
unrestrainedly to that consciousness of the depths of her being which
enfolded her as in a dream, and which she nevertheless continually
thrust aside.
The two women sat close together, the Countess on the ground.
Both seemed alike to be struck down by an invisible and imperious
fist, striking at these centres of abandonment and yearning and
self-betrayal. After the hasty and intimate avowals forced from them,
the shadow of silence fell upon them.
“Say something!” pleaded the Countess timidly.
“Be silent, or I shall strangle you ... with my own hands!” cried the
dancer.
The Countess shrank back, feeling herself, beside the other, to
resemble a hare in the claws of a mighty and powerful bird of prey.
Food was pushed into the cell, but neither of the women perceived it.
It grew dark, and the dancer lay down, fully dressed, upon one of the
plank beds. The Countess imitated her and stretched herself on the
other straw pallet. The night passed by, and in the long sleepless
hours their fancies flowed into a dark and turgid stream.
Suddenly in the gloom Cara’s voice was heard: “Are you asleep?”
“No.”
“Why are you here?”
The Countess had not the courage to repeat her tissue of lies, and she
remained silent. Cara, too, kept silent for a while, then she said
suddenly:
“You were sent here to pump me! Have I told you anything?”
“Yes.”
“About _him_?”
“Yes.”
“Did I tell you his name?”
“No.”
“That’s all right then, otherwise you would never leave this place
alive. But if you are lying, and I had told it you, I tell you now,
he _has_ no name. He is a thousand men, a whole nation, a part of the
universe!”
“Just like the man I have been thinking of,” reflected the Countess,
but an instant later she did not know whether she had not spoken her
thought aloud.
“When are you going away again?”
“When you want me to.”
“Then go at once, and tell everything I have told you!”
“No,” answered the Countess resolutely.
“Why don’t you, when that is what you came here for?”
“Things are different now.”
“Nothing is different,” asserted the dancer vehemently. “Everything is
as it was and will ever be. He is out there, free as the air; I am here
like a carcass rotting on the ground. Tell everything you know.”
“I shall say nothing!”
“Why not, you--you cursed hussy!” she shrieked.
“Because you love him so!”
Then the dancer grew calm again, but a few moments later she burst into
tears and sobbed wildly and unrestrainedly.
The Countess lay still on her pallet. She felt as if a naked soul with
claws, whence the skin and tissues had been withdrawn, were clutching
at her heart and holding it within its grasp. She felt her own blood
shudder and leap up beneath the claws and mingle with that of the
other. This naked soul that clutched at her was her sister. She was
akin in blood to the criminal yonder, but neither of the women knew
that he who had thus caused their hearts to beat in unison during this
night in prison was one and the same mysterious being.
XI
The news Wenk received of Karstens’ state was very unsatisfactory.
Since he had, apparently, offered strong resistance to his attackers,
a second man seemed to have struck him violently on the head with a
crowbar, and the blow had resulted in concussion of the brain. At
intervals he became conscious, but for short periods only, and at
present it was impossible to say what the outcome would be. His state
was so critical, the doctor declared, that any sustained conversation
with him could not be thought of for at least two or three weeks.
As for the dancer, about whose participation in the affair he would
have something to say, as his shout to the constables to take her into
custody proved, Wenk had for the present to content himself with any
evidence the Countess might obtain. To-day was Monday, and at four
o’clock in any case he would hear whether any explanation might be
looked for from Cara Carozza.
He did not leave the house that day. The two main centres of his
activity could not be reached by him in person; one was the women’s
prison, the other, and far more important, was the town of Constance.
He was frequently called up by telephone from the latter place, for
this Poldringer had to be kept constantly under surveillance.
While spending the waiting hours at home impatiently, he frequently
walked backwards and forwards to the window. On one of these occasions
he noticed a man whom he had first seen as early as eight o’clock, and
again half an hour later, and then not again for some time. The man
always happened to be passing the house rapidly, or else standing at a
turning some distance off. Could it be that he was there to spy upon
his movements? Wenk resolved to put the matter to the test.
He ordered one of the members of the Secret Police to disguise himself
so that anyone at a hasty glance might mistake him for the State
Attorney. Then Wenk’s chauffeur brought round the car to the door where
the masquerader was waiting, and at a moment when the stranger was
again visible at a corner this man got in quickly, settled himself down
inside, and was rapidly driven away. “I shall be able to see how this
simple trick succeeds,” said Wenk to himself.
At this moment there was an urgent call from Constance. “The man under
observation brought the young fellows in his company to the station
at 3.16 p.m. The Offenburg express is due to leave at 3.36. It is
uncertain which of the party will travel by it; some have hand luggage,
and the others none, and it is not yet ascertainable whether the
suspected man will accompany them. One of them bought seven tickets for
Offenburg, but the party consists of eight, and one among them looks
different and has never been seen here before. It is possible that he
may be the leader of the expedition, and in the service of the French.
How are we to proceed?”
“Have three plain-clothes police ready. If the eight go by train, let
these three go too. If one or more stay behind, let one of the men be
left too, so that those remaining are not allowed out of sight. They
may be travelling by separate routes.”
The telephone official repeated the order given. “Good. Arrange to
speak to me immediately after the departure of the express. Ring off.”
Wenk asked to be connected with Offenburg, and in five minutes he was
able to get on to the police there.
“Seven, or possibly eight, men are arriving by the express from
Constance. Plain-clothes men are in the same train. See that sixteen
armed police are in readiness at the station. It is probable that
the travellers will have passes to Alsace. They are forged.... When
you arrest the men, be careful to avoid observation, and the only
information to be given to the Press is that it was a case of Germans
having been enticed into the Foreign Legion; and mind you state
expressly that they will be at once set free and returned to their
homes. You will know nothing about the forged passports. In case there
is a man of the name of Poldringer or Hinrichsen among them, let him be
separated from the rest and kept in close custody.”
Shortly after Constance telephoned again: “Seven men have left. It is
Poldringer who stayed behind; he went to the ‘Black Bull,’ and is under
observation there.”
“Good. Thank you. Please ring up here again at seven o’clock, and
should anything important occur in the meantime, notify the Criminal
Investigation Department.”
Then Wenk had to hurry, so that he might call for the Countess at the
prison at four o’clock. It was then half-past three, and he was alone
in the house. He telephoned for his car, and just as he was going
downstairs he heard a knock at the front door. He opened it.
An elderly man was standing there. His figure was bent, and he had a
bushy snow-white beard, red cheeks and blue eyes.
“Herr von Wenk?” he inquired courteously.
“Please come in,” answered the lawyer, “but I am sorry to say that I am
just going out on urgent official business.”
“I will not detain you a moment,” said the other. “My name is Hull, and
I am the father of the murdered man!”
Wenk bowed, and led the way to his office.
“Herr von Wenk, I have been told that you are conducting this inquiry.
Edgar was my only son, and I brought him up badly, for my whole time
was given to my business, and I had vast interests. My wife died when
he was but a child. I think many sons in our days have had a similar
experience.” He spoke evenly, almost harshly. “But that does not free
me from blame. Our sons were our pleasure, our business our duty. It
would have been better had it been the other way about. I cannot desire
such a life as his to be restored, for what I have heard from various
sides about the circumstances of the case is sufficient, and I do not
wish to know more, but I have allowed myself the liberty of calling
upon you for other reasons. My son used to receive an income of ten
thousand marks from me each month, and the only wish left me in this
unhappy affair is to be able to spend these ten thousand marks as if
he were still living, and add another ten thousand to them. I want the
money to be used to help men to make good, and how am I to set about
this? Can you advise me, sir?”
Wenk answered in a hesitating tone, “I must first of all confess, Herr
von Hull, that your words have taken me aback!”
This man’s bearing moved him deeply. Restrained force of character,
suppressed paternal grief, unutterable sympathy ... everything that
had thus unexpectedly been laid bare to him, threw him for the moment
somewhat off his balance. “Yes. I don’t know ... Herr von Hull, why did
you come to _me_ above all men?”
“I can tell you that at once, sir. It is your task to bring the
murderers to justice, and I should like to replace with something that
is beneficial the harm that has been done by one of my house. I should
like the recollection of my son to bear good fruit. I have had nothing
of his life, but perchance his death may yield something that may
plead for me in eternity.” His voice remained firm until the last word
had been uttered. “But I must not forget that you are in a hurry,” he
continued. “Perhaps it is this same unhappy affair which prevents your
giving me any more time now?”
“You are right,” said the lawyer.
“Can I see you to-morrow or some other day, when we can talk quietly,
when you are free?”
“I shall be free to-morrow, my dear sir. Come when most convenient to
you, preferably in the morning. You are not obliged to fix an exact
time, for I shall be at home all day. I thank you for your suggestion;
we shall be enabled to do a splendid piece of work together, I believe.”
“Nay, it is I who must thank you for being willing to help me raise
a memorial to my unhappy boy that shall redeem his name among his
fellow-men.”
They left the house together, and Wenk drove rapidly to the prison.
“The lady left here long before four o’clock,” said the Governor.
“Indeed!” said Wenk, disappointed. “What did she leave for me?”
“Nothing!”
“And you yourself know nothing either? About the matter she had in
hand, did she get any results?”
“I did not inquire.”
“Why not?” said Wenk, annoyed by his manner.
“I was not instructed to do so,” answered the Governor morosely.
“It is not a question of your exact instructions, but of attempting to
track to earth one of the most dangerous bands of criminals Germany
has ever known. You don’t seem to realize that. What you and your
instructions may be counts for nothing.”
“So much the better. Perhaps another time I may be spared such
innovations....”
“You do not seem to feel yourself thoroughly comfortable in your
post, Governor. I will say a word for you to the Home Secretary! Good