“What did you do—where is it now?”
“In Sonny’s—that is, in the room where I put it, I suppose.”
“Lord, I’m a dumbbell,” said O’Leary heartily. “Miss Keate, listen carefully, please. Take that loud speaker, just as it is, to some safe place and don’t let anyone have it until I come. Understand?”
“Yes,” I said slowly. “But I—do you think—could it possibly be—”
“That’s all, Miss Keate,” he interrupted. “Thank you very much.” And before I could tell him of Higgins he had hung up the receiver and I was left shouting “Mr. O’Leary,” into the mouthpiece.
Feeling somewhat put out I telephoned immediately to the number he had given me. A manservant answered and told me rather superciliously that Mr. O’Leary was out. On my saying the message was urgent he brightened up, however, and took my number and name with alacrity, promising to have Mr. O’Leary telephone me as soon as he came home. It seemed evident to me that O’Leary believed the radium to be in the loud speaker, and though at first I was disinclined to agree with him, for it seemed to me that that was altogether too prominent a hiding place, by the time I had reached the south wing, I had had time to recall the “purloined letter,” lying there in plain sight, and was beginning to feel considerably excited and eager to get my hands on the loud speaker. Those loud speakers that we have at St. Ann’s are, as Dr. Letheny had complained, specially made at the advice of a board member who deals in radios; they are built a good deal like a small round hat box on a standard. You’ve seen them. The parallel sides, or what would be the top and bottom of the hat box, are made of some sort of fancifully decorated parchment paper. They are quite attractive and have a clear, soft tone, very nice for a hospital. The more I thought of it the more clearly I realized that here would be a place to hide the radium. There would be plenty of room, the speaker was inconspicuously prominent, if I may indulge in the paradox, and while appearing to be so permanently constructed, nevertheless one of the sides could doubtless be removed and replaced with little evidence of tampering.
It could not have been more than a minute or two later that I entered Sonny’s room and got the loud speaker. I suddenly remembered that it was out of order and had not been fixed, but fortunately Sonny had not asked to have the radio turned on since I had transferred it from Room 18. Or at least if he had, I hadn’t heard of it. As I left the room the corridors were deserted. I met Maida just outside my own room and she saw what I carried but said nothing. I went on into my room and closed the door.
I had fully intended to remove one of the sides of the loud speaker at once, but in the very act of doing so I checked myself. So far as I knew I might thus destroy some important clue. Lance O’Leary had said nothing about examining it; he had said only to place it in safekeeping. It was with some disappointment that, after staring at the thing for some time and shaking it tentatively at my ear, I placed it face downward on the lower shelf of the chifferette and locked the door.
Now to find Higgins!
Higgins was not easy to find, however. I hunted all through the basement, the ambulance rooms, the kitchens, even went out in the twilight to the garage, but Higgins was not to be found. It was dark by that time so I took my way back to the hospital. Not willing to give up I made another rapid search through the basement, but the only living beings I saw were Morgue and the cook who was just going to bed with a stack of forbidden newspapers under his arm.
The cook, however, had seen Higgins.
“Not twenty minutes ago,” he said positively.
“Where?”
“Let me see now—seems to me he was walking down toward the apple orchard. That tall fellow, the one that is visiting up at Letheny’s, was with him.”
“Mr. Gainsay was with him!”
“Sure.” The cook was immediately interested. “Sure. Walking down toward the apple orchard, they was. Do you want to see Higgins, Miss Keate?”
“Oh, it was of no importance,” I said, and somewhat disconsolately departed.
XII
Room 18 Again
Still feeling that I must get hold of Higgins, it was hard to compose myself to rest and I didn’t sleep a wink. About eleven o’clock I got up and made my way again to the basement. It was dark and spooky and very empty down there and after knocking at Higgins’s door a few times and feeling, while I waited for the reply that did not come, as if all the ghosts in Christendom were prowling in the furnace room and thereabouts, I retreated precipitously to my own room. I was sure that Higgins was in his room, for where else would he be at that hour? But the surroundings were not those to encourage persistence on my part. The unused corridors are very desolate at that hour and those of the sickroom wings little less so.
I was still wide awake when the twelve o’clock gong sounded.
By that time I was convinced that Higgins was deliberately keeping out of my way and that in itself made me the more anxious to get in touch with O’Leary. I stopped at the general office as I passed it on my way to the south wing, and telephoned again.
The same servant answered my ring, sleepily at first, but he awoke in a hurry when I told him that it was Miss Keate at St. Ann’s and that I must speak to Mr. O’Leary at once.
“You might try the police station,” he said guardedly. “I think he was investigating
