Dr. Mabuse, master of mystery a novel
longer, but with hasty and powerful stride about to enter a car. He saw
his own chauffeur drawing up to the kerb, and called to him in a low
voice, “Follow that car!”
They flew after it. It was a large and powerful car, but as it was
still early in the evening, there was a good deal of traffic, and it
could not travel at its full speed, consequently they were close behind
it. They were soon caught up in a stream of cars and taxicabs coming
from one of the theatres, so that Wenk could follow quietly and without
exciting suspicion right to the Palace Hotel. The Professor’s car
stopped in front of it, and before Wenk’s car came to a standstill he
saw the other enter the vestibule hastily. He gave a fleeting glance
round. Wenk hastened after him, but happened to be caught in the stream
of those entering, who hid him from sight. He saw the Professor rapidly
open and read a telegram at the hotel bureau, and while he was reading
it Wenk had time to select a favourable spot for observing him. Thus
he saw that the old gentleman, raising his eyes from his telegram, gave
a furtive glance round, then went quickly to the lift, opened the door
and disappeared within it; but Wenk had noticed that there was a lift
attendant sitting inside.
He waited till the light signalled where the lift had stopped, and saw
it was on the first floor; then he rang for it to descend.
“First floor!” said he to the boy, and they went up alone.
“Wasn’t it the gentleman in No. 15 who just went up?” he asked.
“No, sir; it was the Dutch Professor in No. 10.”
“Ah, then my eyes must have deceived me,” he said. “Thank you;” and
he proceeded slowly along the corridor. He came to No. 10, lingered a
moment there, then went on and looked backward, hearing a door open. It
might have been No. 10. He waited, stooping down and busying himself
with his shoelace, and when he heard the door shut again, he turned
round. Then he saw that on the mat in front of No. 10 there was a pair
of shoes.
He went back, an unusual idea having occurred to him. He would knock at
the door and ask the old gentleman whether he had recovered from his
indisposition, and then take him unawares, for he felt he had enough to
go upon to arrest him. The idea seemed to him both a bold and promising
one, but when he stood in front of No. 10 again, he saw that the shoes
outside the door were women’s shoes, and he gave up the thought. Then
he went downstairs and asked to see the hotel manager. He showed him
the necessary credentials and asked about the gentleman in No. 10. The
hotel list was brought.
“No. 10, you see, sir, is Professor Grote, from The Hague.”
“According to your book he is staying here alone.”
“That is so, your honour.”
“Is he always alone here, or now and then with a female companion?”
“I do not allow anything of that sort, your honour. We are very strict
about our guests’ respectability.”
“Well, I can only say that this guest, in spite of his size, has
uncommonly small feet.”
“What does your honour mean by that?”
“He wears ladies’ shoes.”
“Ah now, sir, you are joking.”
“Well, come with me, my good fellow, and see for yourself.”
They went upstairs together. In front of No. 10 they saw a pair of
elegant high-heeled shoes of the latest fashion.
Then Wenk cocked his revolver and went in without the formality of
knocking. He entered the room quickly, the hotel manager following him.
The light was on, but the room was empty. Both the windows were closed
and the bathroom adjoining had none. Wenk searched the cupboards, bed,
and drawers, but nowhere was any clue to be found. He hurried down to
the street, but the stranger’s car had disappeared.
He made the manager inquire who had left the hotel within the last ten
minutes. “Nobody but the secretary,” said the commissionaire. At that
moment the secretary came from behind a partition, ready to leave the
hotel. The man looked at him in amazement.
“You here again! You only left a few minutes ago.”
“_I_ did? I was in the bureau till this very minute,” answered the
employé.
Then Wenk knew all he needed to know, and the circumstance was fully
explained. For the purposes of disguise the man who had disappeared
had prepared the outfit of someone well known in the hotel. He had
put a woman’s shoes at his door, for he conjectured, and rightly too,
that the pursuer, before he entered the room, would go back to the
bureau and inquire about the mystery of the feminine footwear, and he
had made good use of the time this took. It was evident to Wenk that
he was dealing with a mastermind. He was astonished at the dexterity
with which he worked. It immediately recalled the doings of the blond
stranger at Schramm’s, and Hull’s Herr Balling.
On his homeward way, and after he reached his chambers, Wenk thought
over all he knew about the bearded blond, and tried to compare it with
the impressions made on him by the Professor. But, strangely enough,
although many details concerning the gambler at Schramm’s were firmly
and indelibly fixed in his mind, his impressions of the Professor were
wavering and indistinct, although he had encountered him but an hour
before.
Moreover, he grew drowsy and it seemed to him as if he had to recover
from some more than ordinary fatigue which he had undergone in the
course of the day. He began to undress, and a lassitude, almost like
that caused by the loss of blood, overcame him. That feeling of an
inward lightness of body which had seemed so comfortable when he
recalled it at the close of their contest, the nervous tension after
the last occurrence, together with the sensation of faintness, now
took possession of him entirely. He yielded to it and fell asleep
before he had quite finished undressing. In his dream it seemed as if
a mysterious and magic castle had been built up all round him, and
he knew that if he could interpret the three syllables “Tsi-nan-fu,”
or locate that hole in the wall whither The Hague professor’s voice
projected them, he would find the key to unlock the door of the
enchanted castle.
V
For the next few evenings Wenk did not visit any gaming-house. As his
own chauffeur, dressed in leather cap and coat, he drove round the
city, bringing his car to a standstill before one or other of its
well-known resorts, and observing, from the security of the driver’s
seat, the people who entered or left it.
On one occasion, when he was driving to the first of these houses and
proceeding slowly along the Dienerstrasse, he was held up by a block
in the traffic. While he was waiting, he saw in a tobacconist’s, just
in front of which his course was arrested, something which caused his
pulses to beat at double time. It was he, the sandy-bearded man! He had
his back turned and was buying cigars, but it was certainly he! He was
making his choice slowly and carefully as if he defied the danger of
being recognized. There was a car in front of the door. Wenk examined
it closely, but it was unfamiliar to him. He copied its number down.
Once the chauffeur left it, in order to do something to the back of the
car. Wenk, who was behind him, called to him; the man looked up, but
put his hands to his mouth as if to signify that he was dumb.
The man in the shop took up his parcel and turned to the door, but the
face he disclosed to Wenk was one he had never seen before. People
pushed between him and Wenk, so that he saw him for a moment only. Just
then the block was released, the string of cars drove on, and the one
in front of him set off at a bound, as if hastening to get away from
pursuit.
Wenk, however, could not shake off his conviction. He followed. As soon
as the other car was free of the rest, it increased its speed, and
bore off to the Maximilianstrasse. Wenk was unable to keep up with it.
The street was empty throughout its length, and when he had reached
the square at the end he saw that the car in front was turning down
Wiedenmeierstrasse. He still followed, the distance between them always
increasing, but in the moonlight he never lost sight of his quarry
throughout the length of the street. When he reached the Max Joseph
Bridge, he saw that the car in front was making use of the wide square
on the other bank of the Isar to make a detour, and suddenly, with its
engines throbbing, it came back across the bridge and drove past him.
It then drove again down the Wiedenmeierstrasse, which it had just
ascended.
This was certainly a suspicious circumstance, and Wenk did all he could
to gain upon the other car, and turned round while still on the bridge.
Again the other turned into the Maximilianstrasse, and as it was now
teeming with traffic, Wenk was able to bring his own vehicle close up.
The strange car came to a halt outside a theatre of varieties. Wenk
sprang from his car, and when the stranger left his and, turning
his back on Wenk, entered the theatre, he felt the same overpowering
conviction that it really was the blond--it could be no other.
In feverish excitement Wenk pushed past the people and got into the
theatre. He saw that he would overtake the stranger in the _foyer_,
so he waited among the rest, certain that the other would have to
pass by him.... But when he did, Wenk saw a broad, clean-shaven man,
with a heavy mouth and large staring eyes. The face was quite unknown
to him, and coolly and indifferently the large eyes glanced at him.
Disappointed and disgusted, Wenk passed by, intending to go out to his
waiting car.
A few late arrivals detained him in the proximity of the cloakroom. It
was exactly eight o’clock, and the signal that the curtain was about
to go up was already being given. At this moment Wenk realized what a
difficulty there would be and what excitement would be created were he
to arrest his man then and there. Unwilling to let his quarry escape
him, he turned once more, and then saw the other disengaging himself
from a group of men who were pushing forward to the pit, making his
way quietly to the left-hand entrance to the boxes. This led to the
five ground-floor boxes, as Wenk knew. He quickly made up his mind and
bought a seat in one of them for himself. It was the last to be had,
and the plan showed him that each box held five persons.
Going back to his car, he crept inside, and there changed into evening
dress. From the box-office he telephoned his chauffeur to come for the
car, and then returned to his box.
It was dark when he entered it, and he tried, but without success, to
distinguish the stranger’s features in the dim light. When the light
went up again he was equally unsuccessful in tracing him anywhere
among the twenty ladies and gentlemen sitting in the lower boxes. It
was altogether incomprehensible. This corridor led to the five boxes
only, and they were five or six feet above the pit. How had his quarry
escaped him?
Now thoroughly uneasy, Wenk hastened to the street to see whether the
stranger’s car was still there. To his relief he found it there.
He breathed more freely, and turned to go to his own car and remain
there until he could pursue the other, but as he noticed the strange
car again, he saw that it had a taximeter. He had looked at the car
well before, and was certain that it had no register. Without further
reflection, Wenk approached the chauffeur, saying, “Are you disengaged?”
“Yes, sir,” said the chauffeur.
Wenk entered the car, giving his own address. During the drive he
intended to consider his next move; then it suddenly occurred to him
that the man, who had been dumb when in the Dienerstrasse, answered
instantly when spoken to here.
The automobile drove on; a sweetish scent pervaded its interior, which
affected Wenk’s mucous membranes.
Something _was_ wrong then! “A little while ago he was dumb, now he can