Dr. Mabuse, master of mystery a novel
He walked back to his chambers--pondering over this new occurrence.
“Another victim!” he said to himself repeatedly. One more sacrifice, a
real sacrifice, for this one had sacrificed herself. This light-of-love
had offered her life as a sacrifice to her love. She had not meant to
tell him anything--he realized that now. She merely wanted to put him
on the wrong track that she might have a chance to warn the criminal.
“I have no success with my women helpers,” he thought sadly, asking how
it was that these steadfast souls should be found on the side of evil
rather than good--always on the side of evil, it seemed to him. When
the dancer was buried next day, he was the only outsider present, and
he returned to his chambers slowly and sadly.
There, however, plenty of work was awaiting him. His idea was to seize
Dr. Mabuse in his own home, and first of all he must ascertain when he
was sure to be found at home, and the two confederates must be secured
at the same time, the one at the Xenienstrasse and the other in the
Schachen villa; there must be no time for one of them to inform the
other.
His preparations must be complete, down to the very last detail, and
then a surprise attack, which must not last more than three minutes,
could be made. It was clear that a man who could boldly carry through
such crimes as these, in the very heart of the city and in the teeth
of the highest civil powers, would have secured himself against all
possible emergencies in his own quarters. That was undoubtedly the
case, and all these careful preparations of Wenk’s required time.
First of all, he must be able to secure one of the neighbouring villas
as his post of observation. It was here that he laid claim to Herr von
Hull’s help. He drove straight to him, asking, “Can you do me a very
great service? Will you employ a confidential agent to lease a floor of
one of the houses No. 26 or 28 in the Xenienstrasse, or, better still,
the whole villa? I want it just as it is, and to be able to go in the
day after to-morrow. The question of expense need not be considered. I
shall want the house for two or three weeks. Spring is approaching, and
there may be someone who wants money for a little trip out of town.”
The old gentleman promised to do what he could in the matter. Then Wenk
asked the police inspector who had engaged him for the road-engine, to
come to town. He arrived by the 11 a.m. express.
“Matters are approaching a climax, inspector,” said Wenk. “You must be
ready to take action at any moment. I will leave the plan of it to you.
You have had plenty of time to get to know the geography of the place
and the opportunities it affords, but the very moment you receive my
order to surround Villa Elise, you must go at it, hell for leather. You
must get your man, alive or dead. We shall put another motor-boat on
the lake, and you can double your force on shore. The road-engine can
be moved away now. The spring season is just beginning in Schachen, so
you and six or eight of your men can be visitors to the lake-side!”
At seven o’clock next morning the inspector returned to his post, and
at eleven o’clock old Hull came with the lease of villa 26 in the
Xenienstrasse.
“There is a young couple living there,” he said, “whom my suggestion
exactly suited. They wanted to go to Switzerland to visit their
parents, but were frightened at the cost of the railway fare. I offered
them five-thousand marks for a month’s rent of the villa, and they
will change them in France. I am afraid I am causing a loss to our
exchange....”
“But you are benefiting your country in another way, Herr Hull, and
that you will very soon find out!” said Wenk.
“You can take possession of the villa at six o’clock to-night!”
At six o’clock, Wenk, disguised as a cyclist messenger, went into the
empty villa, leaving his bicycle outside. He was quite alone in the
house, and at once sought for a window which would afford him vantage
ground. He concealed himself behind a lace curtain and began to watch
the street. The first thing he noticed was that after he had been there
about a quarter of an hour someone stole his bicycle and made off with
it. He had never seen a thief actually at work before; this side of his
calling was presented to him for the first time to-day. He regarded it
as a favourable omen, being much amused by the comic haste with which
the thief had looked round him on all sides, although he was even then
straddling the machine.
For two hours he kept watch on the front door, side door, window and
roof of Mabuse’s villa. No one went out or in, and though Wenk remained
on the watch till midnight, nothing was to be seen. He fell asleep at
the window, woke and watched again, and then slept once more, finally
awaking in broad daylight. His servant brought him a meal prepared in a
restaurant near. It was a long vigil, and Wenk, bringing the telephone
to the window, held conversations with acquaintances and with some
members of the police force.
At last, towards six o’clock in the evening, a car drew up and
immediately drove away again. A gentleman went up to the front door.
Was it Mabuse? No, this was an old gentleman, with the feeble and
uncertain step of a paralytic. Possibly he was a patient.
Soon after that Wenk saw a chimney-sweep leave the house. He went along
quickly and cheerfully, puffing away at a cigarette. Wenk had not seen
the sweep go in; that must have been mere chance, though. The old
invalid seemed to be there a long time; could he be waiting for the
Doctor? Perhaps, though, he was one of his assistants. It seemed hardly
likely. However, he must do nothing rash.
Twilight was already advanced when a man with a parcel rang at the
front door, which was opened with surprising promptness. Half an hour
later this man came out again, and so it went on. Even through the
night people kept coming and going, and next day it was the same story.
On the third day Wenk was called up early by his man. The Criminal
Investigation Department had some important information for him.
Something had happened during the night at a gaming-den. Would he like
an official to bring him a report? Yes, he replied, but the detective
should come in some sort of uniform.
Half an hour later the detective, got up as a telephone repairer,
appeared and told his story. Last night a young man had come to the
guard-room and said that he and others had been playing baccarat in
a secret gaming-house. An old gentleman, who seemed to be partially
paralysed, was playing too, and he always lost his money. When it
was just upon three o’clock in the morning, the old gentleman had
a sudden fit of rage, shouted out something, and immediately three
men, who had also been playing, leaped on the table. They drew out
revolvers, shouting “Hands up!” Then a fourth man went from one visitor
to another, searching their pockets and taking all their money away,
as well as that lying on the table. They had taken twelve thousand
marks from the man who was telling the story. When they came to the
old gentleman they left him alone, and he suddenly stood up and walked
out as if there was nothing the matter with him. Two of the thieves
accompanied him, and the others protected him from behind, and outside
there were two cars waiting.
This story excited Wenk greatly. It did not interfere with his scheme,
but, on the contrary, it showed that Mabuse felt himself secure. Yet
while Wenk was here in a strange house behind a curtain like a sleepy
bat, the criminal was going his accustomed way, calmly, boldly, as if
he had nothing and nobody to fear. After all, it was quite natural.
Why should he not go free when the man who had sworn to bring him to
justice was in hiding here behind a window curtain!
Taking a sudden resolve, Wenk left his post, and did not return till
evening. He had given an order to extinguish the street-lamp in front
of Mabuse’s house by breaking the glass and damaging the electric light
bulb. It was a dark night, and as soon as Mabuse’s windows showed no
light Wenk entered the garden. He was carrying a canister filled with
fine meal, and he clambered over the fence into Mabuse’s grounds and
went cautiously along the garden path, scattering the meal in a thin
layer over part of the short walk between the garden gate and the
house. Then he hurried back over the fence to his own garden and into
No. 26 again.
Half an hour later someone left Mabuse’s house, but Wenk could not see
who. After an hour and a half, he heard steps in the street passing
beneath his window. He saw a man wearing military dress, who went
quickly to Mabuse’s door and disappeared within the house.
Wenk went downstairs again and hid behind a shrub in the garden. After
a long time he heard Mabuse’s front door open, and in the starlight he
could see that a stout, elderly lady was leaving the house. She went
into the street, where a car seemed to spring up from nowhere. She got
into it and drove rapidly away.
Wenk clambered over the hedge between his and Mabuse’s garden, crept on
all fours over the grass to the garden path, and examined the ground
by the help of his electric torch. Then he saw that the footsteps of
all three persons were exactly the same. Therefore, whoever it was who
came out first, and the soldier, and the elderly lady, were one and the
same person. And then it occurred to him that yesterday and the day
before yesterday the chimney-sweep, the paralytic, the messenger with
his parcel, were the same person, and this person was--Mabuse. Wenk
carefully removed the traces of the meal.
To-night must lead to some conclusion or other. In both the nearest
guardrooms special police were ready, fully armed, prepared to break
in at any moment. When Wenk knew Mabuse to be safe at home, he would
hasten to No. 26, send a telephone call, and three minutes later
Mabuse’s house would be surrounded by police. To burst the door would
be the work of thirty seconds. Six men would remain outside and
surround the house. The other six would join him in a rush on the
place. When Mabuse was secured, the order to Schachen would go through.
Wenk stole rapidly back to his own garden, stretched himself flat on
the ground and waited. The earth radiated the warmth of this day of
late spring, and he felt the power that lay in the soil. And in an
attitude of tense expectancy, two hours, one hour, perhaps even minutes
only before his work would be crowned with success, it seemed to Wenk
as if music, a music betraying the secrets of all hearts, stole over
his senses. Tears filled his eyes, and his bare fingers caressed the
fragrant ground. He felt as if it were the very essence of manhood laid
bare, the manhood for which he was risking his life.
He had decided to lie here waiting until Mabuse, in some disguise or
other, should return to the house. Nothing could go wrong now. When the
other was once more inside, like a mouse caught in a trap, Wenk would
hasten back and breathe his order into the telephone.
But before this could happen he was to undergo a strange experience,
something which made his heart stand still and a cry by which he had
almost betrayed himself pass his lips. A car came up the street, and
stopped with a noisy shriek in front of the house. But no one got out.
No, it was Mabuse’s door which opened, and in the person descending the
steps, and pausing in the glow of the headlights, Wenk recognized the
Countess.
If he had not pressed his lips to the ground that very instant, his
cry must have betrayed him. The car hastened back whence it had come.
“Wife-robber! Husband-murderer!” raged Wenk. So this was the secret of
Count Told’s death. “The man is a devil and a werwolf!” he cried.
Suddenly he felt the cold night penetrating his clothing, and he found