“Sure.”
Nayland Smith, his facial disguise that which he employed for the Salvation Army officer, his dress that of a business man, followed Mark Hepburn—representing Midtown Electric—into the darkness illuminated only by Mr. Schmidt’s torch. Hepburn supplemented it by the light of another.
They were in a curious, octagonal room in which, facing south, were three windows. There were indications that furniture at some time had stood against the walls. Now the room was bare.
“I guess we’ll push right on to the top,” said Hepburn.
Mr. Schmidt studied the rough plan which he carried.
“The door is on this side, I think,” he said vaguely. “One of the late Mr. Stratton’s eccentricities.”
He walked to a point directly opposite the central window, stood fumbling there awhile, and then inserted a key in a lock and opened the hitherto invisible door.
“This way”
They went up an uncarpeted staircase at the top of which another door was opened. They entered a second octagonal room appreciably smaller than that which they had just quitted, but also destitute of any scrap of furniture; there was an empty alcove on one side.
“You see,” said Schmidt, flashing his light about, “there’s a balcony to this room, outside the french windows there. . . .”
“I see,” muttered Nayland Smith, staring keenly about him.
“From that gallery,” said Mark Hepburn in his monotonous voice, “it is possible I could see the cable to the flagstaff.”
“The window,” Schmidt replied, “appears to be bolted only. I think you can get out there without any difficulty.
Nayland Smith turned suddenly to the speaker.
“There is still another floor above?”
Mark Hepburn had shot back a bolt and opened one of the heavy windows.
“Yes, so I understand. A small domed room immediately under the flagstaff. The door, I believe”—he hesitated—”is directly facing the windows, again. Let us see if I can open it.”
He crossed as Hepburn stepped out on to the gallery—that gallery which Professor Morgenstahl had paced so often in the misery of his captivity. . . .
“Here we are!” Schmidt cried triumphantly.
“I see,” said Nayland Smith, regarding the newly-opened door. “I should be obliged, while we complete our inspection, if you would step down and tell the fireman on duty that he is not to leave without my orders.”
“Certainly, Mr. Englebert; then I’ll come right back.”
Mr. Schmidt crossed and might be heard descending the stair.
As he disappeared:
“Hepburn!” Nayland Smith called urgently.
Hepburn came in from the balcony.
“This place has been hurriedly stripped—and only a matter of hours ago! But, all the same, our last hope is the top floor!”
He led the way, shining light ahead. It was a short stair— and the door above was open. Small, domed, and surrounded by curious amber paned Gothic windows which did not appear to communicate with the outer air, it was stripped— empty!
“We are right under the flagstaff,” said Hepburn quite tone-lessly. “He’s been too clever for us. I was marked on my first visit.”
Nayland Smith’s hands fell so that the ray from his torch shone down upon the floor at his feet.
“He wins again!” he said slowly. “That baize door has been covered all day. There’s another way in—and another way out: the cunning, cunning devil.” And now, his diction changed as that dauntless spirit recovered from the check:
“Come on, Hepburn, downstairs again!” he snapped energetically.
But in the apartment below, with its bedroom alcove and tiny bathroom, formerly the quarters of the eccentric millionaire who had lived in semi-seclusion here, Nayland Smith stared about him in something like desperation.
“We have clear evidence,” he said, “that this room certainly was occupied forty-eight hours ago. We are not defeated yet, Hepburn.”
“I am anxious to study the view from the balcony,” Hepburn replied.
“I know why you are anxious.”
Undeterred by the note of raillery perceptible in Nayland Smith’s voice, Mark Hepburn stepped out on to the iron-railed balcony: Smith followed.
“Where does the boy live, Hepburn?”
“I am trying to identify it. Wait a moment—I have seen these windows lighted from our own apartment. So first let’s locate the Regal-Athenian.”
