When once again in his house at Munich he went straight to bed. He controlled his desire to go to the Countess, and fell fast asleep at once.
When the road-menders in Schachen returned to work after their midday rest, a man who had come out of the inn attached himself to their party, saying that he wanted to speak to the overseer. Was it likely he could find a job? he asked them.
“You can have mine this minute, if you’ll pay for it well,” said one jokingly, but the man said that he only wanted the work so that he could get some pay himself. “That’s another matter,” laughed the navvy. “There’s the overseer standing there.”
The man went towards him, speaking in a low tone, and unobtrusively drew him somewhat away from the rest. Yes, he could possibly get a job, said the overseer, who was really a police inspector; let him show his papers.
These the man brought out, saying, “Do not show yourself surprised, inspector. Look as if you were reading the papers through, and take me on to help the stoker on the engine. He is Sergeant Schmied, isn’t he?”
“Yes, sir. … Well, all right, I’ll take you on,” said the inspector aloud. “We can give you some work. Come this way. Schmied,” he called out. He explained to Schmied in an undertone that the State Attorney was going to spend the day on the engine as stoker’s assistant.
“What have you noticed now?” asked Wenk of Schmied, as the road-engine moved backwards and forwards.
“While you were on the way, the inspector telephoned to you, but you had already started. Things seem very strange here. We saw the man go to the villa that night, and we thought he must be the one who had left the car standing in the road, but yet it doesn’t seem to tally with the rest, for when we came back to the car it had disappeared. Early this morning there was a woman in a rowing-boat on the lake near the villa, but we could not be sure whether she actually came from there. An hour later, Poldringer, the man we are watching, came from the highroad and went into the house; but we had never seen him leave it, and that is very curious.”
“You have no idea whether the villa has some unknown exit?”
“No, for hitherto our observations of Poldringer all tally. He used to return the same way he went out. He scarcely ever leaves the place, not once in three days.”
“Is there no way of getting into the villa?”
“Not without exciting attention. I see that by the way tramps are turned away. They have a well-trained bloodhound there. … It would not be possible to effect a secret entrance.”
“Is Poldringer still there?”
“Yes; I saw him at a window just now.”
“Had the car a numberplate?”
“Yes, the Constance district; here is the number.”
“That, of course, is a false one. It came from the Lindau direction, I think you said?”
“Yes, sir. I telephoned the number to Friedrichshafen, Ravensburg, Lindau, Wangen and Constance. From Constance they told me that the number I gave belonged to a car in use by the Sanitary Commissioners which never left Constance.”
“Isn’t it possible that the car had been expected at the villa, but did not stop at it, either because they wanted to use it again shortly or because something had made them a bit suspicious—the steamroller, for example? … and therefore Poldringer was told to wait for the car in the street and take it to some place of concealment? During that time the man who had brought it here arrived at the villa. He is either still there with Poldringer or else he was the woman in the rowing-boat, and he has driven to the place where the car is. We must find out where they keep it hidden.”
“We often hear the sound of a motorboat at night not far from the shore, but we are not able to keep an eye on it.”
“I shall sleep in the trolly with you tonight, and we will stop the roller half a kilometre further away from the house. Is there any suitable place to hide in near the house?”
“Yes.”
“Then we’ll go together. Is that settled? All right, then; now I’m going to learn how to lay out the stones. Hitherto, I’ve only laid out criminals!” laughed Wenk.
“Yes, your honour,” said Schmied cheerily, as he released the throttle and started the engine. “Will your honour please to stoke up!” And Wenk heaped more coal into its glowing maw.
“Up to now your honour has never fired an engine, only criminals!” he continued, carrying on Wenk’s joke.
“Yes, but not enough of those, as you see at the villa, my good Schmied,” answered the lawyer. “However, I hope with your help. …”
“We shall catch them all right,” said Schmied eagerly.
“If we don’t overreach ourselves, for I think we are dealing at the moment with the most dangerous and daring gang in Europe. You know that we have ascertained so far that it is a case of card-sharping, murder, terrorization, and all of it done by the help of a gang.”
“Yes, indeed,” said Schmied.
As they were leaving the trolly that evening Schmied whispered: “I should like to draw your attention to something, sir. Every evening I go by as if I were taking a little rest after the day’s work, and I light up my pipe. Just at the side there, you see, we are getting to a little door. Whenever anyone goes by, the dog begins barking, and I couldn’t help thinking there was some reason for it, but one can’t find it out from the street. You see now, I am just
