The unknown seven A detective story
tones. In that dim, somber room it seemed natural to speak softly. “I
have reason to believe that your brother-in-law is still alive.”
Englebreth had been tapping the desk with a pencil. Suddenly the
tapping stopped. He gazed fixedly at the detective. “How much reason?”
he asked.
“I know it to be a fact,” said Cole, weighing his words, “that Mr.
Reeves was alive last night.”
“So,” mumbled the other in tones scarcely above a whisper. “Professor
Carmody hasn’t done away with him, then. I feared that he might——” He
broke off, then raised his voice a little. “How do you know this, Mr.
Cole? How can you be so positive that my brother-in-law was alive last
night? You don’t mean to say that you have seen him?”
The last sentence was spoken in tense and vibrant tones, so unlike
Englebreth’s usually colorless voice.
“Before I answer that question,” said Cole, “I want to ask you one.
What makes you so positive that Professor Carmody has had a hand in
your brother-in-law’s disappearance?”
“Have you learned something that has brought you to a contrary view?”
“Please answer my question.”
A scowl darkened Englebreth’s face. He resumed his slow tapping with
the pencil. “We know that my brother-in-law had frequent and secret
meetings with Carmody. We have established definitely that he had an
appointment with the professor on the night of his disappearance.
One of the servants in his house heard him make the appointment over
the telephone. You yourself learned, from the delicatessen keeper
across the street from Carmody’s place, that a man answering Malcolm’s
description entered the house on that particular night. Fairly
conclusive, I should say.”
Cole eyed him levelly. “You are holding something back, Mr. Englebreth.
You have not stated your principal reason for suspecting Carmody in
connection with Mr. Reeves’ disappearance.”
The tapping became a furious tattoo. “Why do you say that, sir?”
Cole fumbled for words, then laughed. “I’ll be hanged if I know! It’s
nothing but a hunch. From the first I had a feeling that you were not
telling me all, but I admit I had no sound reason for thinking so.”
Englebreth, seemingly mollified, smiled. “You detectives are suspicious
of everybody. I suppose that’s a part of your stock in trade. However,
I don’t mind admitting that, in this instance, you were partly right.
I have told you everything that can be of any help to you in your
search for Malcolm; yet there are certain trifling details that, for
private reasons and out of regard for the family, I have not confided
to you. You would not be interested in them, and they couldn’t be of
any possible use to you. It was because of these private and delicate
matters that I took the case to you instead of the police. Now will you
answer my question? Have you seen Malcolm?”
“I have, Mr. Englebreth. I saw him last night.”
“Where?” The invalid strained forward in his chair. “In Professor
Carmody’s house?”
“No; I have not yet seen the inside of the professor’s residence.”
“Then where did you see him?” The tapping had ceased again, and
Englebreth was waiting breathlessly for the answer.
“That’s the queer part of it.” Cole gave a little baffled laugh. “I
have seen your brother-in-law, but I can’t tell you where.”
“You can’t?”
“Because I don’t know.”
A threatening look crossed Englebreth’s face. “This is no occasion
for jests, Mr. Cole. Even if you have no feelings of your own in the
matter, you ought to respect the sentiments of other people. My wife is
deeply shocked over the uncertainty regarding her brother’s fate.”
“Pardon me, Mr. Englebreth. I laughed, but it was only out of sheer
bewilderment. I had an experience last night that was so unbelievable
that I shan’t try to describe it. I feel dazed whenever I look back
upon it. All I can tell you is that I saw Mr. Reeves alive.”
“And well?” questioned Englebreth sharply.
“He seemed to have been through a trying experience.”
“You are quibbling. I want the truth.”
“Perhaps I shall be able to give it to you some time within the next
twenty-four hours. For the present I fear you will have to be satisfied
with what I have told you. My impressions of what I saw and heard last
night are not very clear. You will understand the reason when I give
you a full report.”
“This is strange talk, Mr. Cole.”
“Not half so strange as some of the things that happened to me last
night.”
Englebreth sat erect in his chair, regarding the detective with a
piercing gaze. Evidently he was far from satisfied, and Cole could not
blame him. Silence fell between them; then a soft tinkling was heard.
Even the telephone seemed to utter its summons in whispers in that
house of subdued sounds.
The invalid wheeled his chair a little closer to the desk and put the
receiver to his ear. A conversation ensued, and gradually Englebreth’s
face underwent a transformation. Cole could not interpret the new look
that came into his countenance, but he watched it in wonder. In a few
minutes the invalid hung up, and the puzzling expression left his face
as suddenly as it had come. He was smiling when he turned to Cole.
“On the whole I find your report quite satisfactory,” he said in
conciliating tones. “I appreciate the difficulties you have to deal
with. Don’t mind me if I seem impatient. May I expect to hear from you
soon again?”
“To-morrow, I hope.” Cole was still marveling at the change he had
witnessed in his client. He wondered whether the telephone conversation
had brought it about. From Englebreth’s part in it he had been unable
to make out its nature, but he imagined that his client had received
news of a startling kind. After an exchange of a few casual remarks he
got up and moved toward the door.
“Just one thing more, Mr. Cole,” said Englebreth as he placed his hand
on the knob. “Please be careful.”
“What?” Cole turned and looked back at the invalid. The tone, rather
than the words, had given him an odd sensation. Englebreth’s white face
was wreathed in smiles, but Cole sensed a hidden barb somewhere.
“Just be careful,” said the invalid. “That’s all, Mr. Cole.”
Cole went out, but echoes of Englebreth’s voice pursued him through
the door and out on the street. The words had sounded as though they
contained a veiled threat of some kind. What could he have meant? He
turned the question over in his mind, time and again. Was it possible
that Englebreth, in some strange and devious way, had learned of the
attempt that had been made to persuade Cole to betray his client?
The theory seemed grossly improbable, but, as he walked along, he
could think of no other solution. The more he thought of it the more
likely it seemed that his client had, in some mysterious manner, got
an inkling of last night’s happenings. He remembered the agitation he
had shown at the telephone. And later, when he gave Cole that peculiar
warning, his voice had sounded as though he meant to convey a threat of
terrible punishment if the detective should go back on his duty.
Cole had not walked far when his step began to lag. He paused at a
corner and glanced at his watch. He pursed his lips, then he scowled a
little, and a look of weighty responsibility came into his face.
It was time to go home and feed Toots.
CHAPTER VIII
THE UNKNOWN SEVEN
All evening Cole had felt a presentiment that his telephone was to
ring. When it finally did ring, shortly after eleven o’clock, he knew,
even before he lifted the receiver from the hook, that he was about to
receive a message from the mysterious seven.
His “hello” was answered by the rich soprano voice of the woman who
called herself Miss Brown, but somehow it sounded different. The
frolicsome undertone, which he had noticed the previous evening, was
gone. In place of it there was a faint tremor that hinted of keen
anxiety.
“I am calling from a public booth near Madison Square,” she told
him. “At exactly twelve o’clock I shall be waiting in my car, on the
southeast corner of Broadway and Twenty-third Street.”
“I’ll be there,” said Cole firmly. During the late afternoon and
evening he had made up his mind that, if a summons should come from the
mysterious seven, he would obey it.
“But be careful,” she went on, and the last word had an oddly familiar
sound in Cole’s ears. “An attempt will be made to follow you.”
“I know,” said Cole lightly. “I’ve been watched ever since I went out
to dinner this evening. I believe somebody is looking up at my windows
this very moment. Have no fear. I’ll shake him off.”
Again requesting him to be careful, Miss Brown rang off. For a moment,
after the connection had been severed, he stood smiling into the
transmitter. Then he stepped to the window and looked out into Gramercy
Park. The sky was partly overcast, and a haze of moonlight and shadows
hovered over the trees. Almost directly below his window stood a gaunt
individual whose eyes were slanting up at him beneath the brim of a
dark felt hat.
Cole examined his pistol before he put it in his pocket, donned hat and
light overcoat, and went out. On the stoop he paused for a moment and
stuck a cigarette between his lips. Then he swung down the steps and
sauntered up to the watcher at the curb.
“Pardon,” he said urbanely. “Could I trouble you for a match?”
The watcher searched his vest pocket and handed him one. Cole caught
a full view of the fellow’s face as he kindled his cigarette. The man
was a stranger to him. Murmuring profuse thanks for the accommodation
Cole walked away. Twenty minutes later, after a devious journey by
foot, subway, and surface cars, he plunged into the traffic jam in the
theatrical district. For a little while he darted in and out among
surging streams of humanity. Then, certain that he had thrown the
pursuer off his tracks, he boarded a southbound car. A tower clock was
signaling the midnight hour just as he reached the appointed corner in
Madison Square.
“You are very prompt,” observed Miss Brown, as he stepped into the
limousine in which his adventure had begun, exactly twenty-four hours
ago. “You are sure you haven’t been followed?”
“Only a short distance.” Cole sat down beside her, having a weird
feeling that ages had passed since he last touched those cushions. “I
shook off the fellow quite easily.”
The car was gliding swiftly toward the south, but soon it began to turn
and twist in all directions. The windows were shaded, and Cole could
only guess which way they were going.
“You’re an audacious person,” murmured the girl. “After what happened
last night I wasn’t sure you would come with me a second time.”
Cole smiled. “Audacious isn’t quite the word.”
“No, I suppose not. You’re not the kind of man who indulges in foolish
bravado. Your decision to come with me to-night was the result of long
and careful thinking, after you left Doctor Latham’s office. Your
interview with the doctor convinced you that our acquaintance might
be worth cultivating, despite the rough treatment you were given last
night. Am I right?”
“In the main. You know, then, that I called on Doctor Latham?”
“Of course. You have been under constant surveillance since you left
our establishment early this morning.”
“How flattering! But you puzzle me, Miss Brown. I have been conscious
of being watched only since dinner time.”
She gave an amused laugh. “One is never conscious of our brand of
espionage. We have men on our staff who have reduced shadowing to a
fine art. They are not so easily shaken off as was the simpleton who
stood outside your windows this evening. By the way, Mr. Cole, aren’t
you harboring a little resentment against me for my part in last
night’s affair?”
“Perhaps,” said Cole dryly, “but curiosity is a stronger motive than