“All right, O’Brien,” said O’Leary very quietly, without moving his head.
“All right,” echoed a voice at the window. There was O’Brien’s head at the window and along the sill gleamed the barrel of another revolver, and then another as a stalwart policeman loomed up beside O’Brien.
My head cleared and my eyes stopped blinking in the sudden light.
The man at the closet door was Dr. Fred Hajek. His face was putty-coloured. His small eyes gleamed like a frightened animal’s. His raincoat dripped moisture in a little puddle on the floor.
“Got him covered, O’Brien?” said O’Leary cheerfully.
“Right!” said O’Brien.
O’Leary leaped lightly from the bed, strode over to the burlap screen, and pulled it back.
Jim Gainsay stood there, his cap pulled low over his eyes, his lean jaw set. One hand was thrust into the pocket of his coat, and the other grasped a small, square box. At the sight of the box I gasped something and pointed.
“The—the radium!”
“It’s you, is it?” said O’Leary in a strange voice.
Hajek made a sudden movement; O’Leary whirled.
“Stop that!” his voice cracked like a whip. Hajek, with a furious glance at the men in the window, subsided.
O’Leary turned again, walked to the middle of the room and paused, looking from one man to the other with a curious expression in his eyes.
“Well,” he said. “I’ve got you both.”
Gainsay started to speak and stopped as the nose of one of the revolvers shifted restlessly.
“Put down your hands if you want to, Hajek,” said O’Leary easily. “Or—wait a moment.”
He crossed to him, ran his hands quickly over Hajek’s pockets, unheeding the fury in those little eyes, extracted a small revolver and tossed it on the bed and smiled.
“There you are, Doctor,” he said politely. “You may lower your hands, now.”
There was a slight commotion at the window.
“Here’s somebody, Mr. O’Leary,” said someone. “He was in the shrubbery and you said not to let anybody get away.”
O’Leary peered into the little group at the window, then his eyes lightened.
“Oh, it’s you, Dr. Balman. You came at just the right time. I think we have bagged our birds. Can you come through the window, Doctor?”
It was Dr. Balman, sure enough, water running off his shoulders and shining in the light as he crawled through the window assisted by the policeman.
Once inside the room Dr. Balman looked slowly about him.
“What is this? What have you found, O’Leary?” His puzzled gaze found the box in Gainsay’s hand. He started. “Why—why is that the radium?”
“It may interest you to know, Dr. Balman, that we have caught the murderer and thief.”
“What!” cried Dr. Balman. His eyes travelled slowly around the room and his voice broke a little as he cried: “Not—not Fred Hajek?”
O’Leary’s keenly exultant eyes softened a little.
“Wait,” he said. “There is another in the room.”
Taking a key from his pocket, he crossed lightly to the closed door of the further closet, unlocked it and swung it open. I took a step forward and cried out involuntarily. Instantly I recognized my own purple hat, sodden and drenched, and then, cramped in that small space, a woman’s huddled figure. It was Corole!
As we stared she glared back at us for a moment. Then she rose slowly, struggling with cramped muscles. Her eyes, narrow with hate, were fixed on Lance O’Leary.
“I’ve been there for hours,” she said in a strange voice that was hoarse and strained with fury. She stamped her feet to start circulation and flexed her arms slowly. Then she pulled my hat from her head, tossed it contemptuously out of the way and ran her brown hands through her tossed, yellow hair. “You are going to suffer for this,” she said. “How dare you force me into that closet, lock the door and leave me!” She took a tigerish step or two toward O’Leary, her nails gleaming suggestively.
“Not so fast, my lady,” interposed O’Brien, who had slipped silently through the window. Corole shifted her malignant gaze, regarded O’Brien for a moment, then slowly and malevolently swept the room.
“So you are here, too?” she said to me. “And Dr. Balman. And Jim. Quite a family party.”
“You are right,” agreed O’Leary smoothly. “Quite a family party. In fact, we need only one more to make our circle complete. Miss Keate, will you please summon Miss Day?”
My heart leaped again as I heard the name, and I heard Jim Gainsay mutter something that was quickly silenced. I opened the door and slid into the corridor; there was no need to call Maida, for there she was, standing opposite the dark door above which still gleamed that ominous red light. She was very white but said nothing as I beckoned her inside the room.
At our entrance O’Leary became active. He motioned to the available chairs.
“Sit down, Miss Day—Miss Keate. Dr. Balman, there is a place on the bed. We may as well make ourselves comfortable for I have a story to tell.”
I suppose my eyes went in some anxiety to the precious box in Jim Gainsay’s hand that was the cause of it all, for O’Leary smiled a bit grimly.
“Don’t be alarmed, Miss Keate. The radium is not in that box; I took it immediately to—a safe place. The box over there was only a bait.”
With a disgusted exclamation Jim Gainsay dropped the box and folded his arms. His eyes sought Maida’s but she did not return his gaze.
“Well, Dr. Hajek,” said O’Leary. “It is too bad it has turned out this way. I thought better of you.”
Dr. Hajek lifted his lip in something very like a snarl but said nothing. Corole made a sudden movement which she checked under O’Leary’s regard.
“Are you sure it was Dr. Hajek? Tell me about it, O’Leary.” The ring of authority was manifest in Dr. Balman’s weary tones.
“In my own way,” promised O’Leary with an apologetic glance toward Dr. Balman. “In the first place, the superstition which so unpleasantly impressed you, Miss Keate, has been
