CHAPTER III
IN THE STEEL ROOM
Garth's fingers played with the piece of white paper.
"You haven't told me where the house is," he said.
The moment the leader had answered Garth was standing on the bench. Hewaved his arm. Suddenly he blew out the lamp.
"On the dock!" he stammered to the darkness. "A noise!"
As the others crept to the door he scratched rapidly and silently with amatch on the piece of paper the location of the house, the nature of thejob, and an appeal for help. When he was through he heard the otherscoming back.
"If your nerves jump like that, Simmons, what a chance we'll have!"George said. "Not a sign. Light up."
Garth struck the match and relighted the lamp.
"I never take unnecessary risks," he said simply.
Nora, he knew, would guess that his excess of caution was a policetrick. His eyes sought her anxiously as the lamp flamed, but she gave nosign. After a moment she whispered:
"Let's start. It--it frightens me here."
The leader opened the door.
"It's time," he said. "They're asleep in the house by now."
They followed him, threading obscure spaces and alleyways to theunlighted end of a street which deployed into a stone mason's yard, andalways Garth asked:
"Will she whisper my life away to the others?"
A taxicab waited there. Garth manoeuvred so that he had a seat by thewindow. He let his hand, which clenched the piece of paper, danglethrough. Such policemen as he saw were indifferent until crossing OneHundred and Twenty-fifth Street he noticed one who looked straight atthe cab. He let the paper flutter from his fingers, but he did not dareglance back to see if the policeman had picked it up.
The cab halted in a dark side street off Lexington Avenue. A man steppedfrom the shadows and waved his hand. They alighted and walked with anunconcern that surprised Garth to the servants' entrance of a largehouse. This Nora unlocked. They entered and waited in the alley whileone by one the four from the boat slipped through after them.
Garth understood what these numbers meant. In order that Nora, George,and he might accomplish their task undisturbed, these men would bear toeach inmate of the house chloroform, or, under necessity, something morepermanently silencing.
Walking heavy-hearted through the alley at Nora's heels, one lastsaving possibility occurred to Garth. Could this be another policetrick? It was likely that the inspector had denied him his fullconfidence. Could Nora be on the same errand as himself, working for herfather?
When she had unlocked the house door he found himself brushing againsther in the hall. Impulsively he reached down and clasped her hand. Buther hand was like ice. She snatched it away. In her action and the sharpintake of her breath he felt his doubts resolved.
Then he was flung into a stealthy, sure, and dreadful whirlpool ofaction. He heard feline movements on the stairs, a muffled thud in thedarkness ahead, from the second floor a shrill cry, all at oncestrangled and beaten back into the heavy silence.
He waited, panting. Upstairs someone rapped sharply three times. Apocket lamp flashed ahead, throwing a white shaft against finely-grainedmahogany.
A hand in the shaft signalled him, and he crept forward until hestumbled over a round, inert mass which lay just outside the room wherethe white light searched the mahogany.
The light, wavering around to greet him, disclosed the obstacle. It wasa man, deftly bound, and bandaged about the mouth, the ears, the eyes.
"Shut the door."
Garth closed the door on this disturbing vision.
The mahogany formed the doors of a large and very wide cabinet. Georgeknelt in front of this, inserting slender, gleaming tools in the lockwith the adroitness of a watchmaker. To one side Nora crouched, playingthe light on his illicit undertaking.
George opened the doors and nodded to Garth. The light glowed now on thesleek, steel belly of a safe; and, as Garth, a trifle confused, reachedout a steadying hand, he realized that the walls of this room were ofsteel, too. The cold, uncompromising feel of the metal was anotherwarning to him. His only chance was that the safe might balk George forsome time.
The man's first words, indeed, encouraged this hope.
"May take a little time," he muttered. "Might's well be comfortable,Simmons. Nora, toss us a couple of those sofa pillows."
Nora reached to the divan behind her and passed the cushions to George.He arranged one to his satisfaction before raising his hand to thecombination.
"Plenty of time, isn't there?" Garth croaked anxiously.
"Ought to be," George answered. "Everything's covered now. Didn't expectto find the watchman where we did though. If he hadn't been halfasleep--Nora, maybe you doped him at supper."
The girl gave no sign. She remained crouched at the side. She was likean animal, ready to spring at the first alarm.
Garth was aware of an unusual tension himself. It was not quite thesuspense he had forecasted. Perhaps this sharing of criminal labor forthe first time accounted for its nature. He appreciated the amount ofcourage demanded. He received, as it were, George's disturbing point ofview of the moment.
Garth had caught a new stammering quality in the man's voice. Hewondered at the perspiration which bathed his face in spite of thecomfortable temperature of the room. He studied the shoulders, squaredas for an attack, momentarily expected. Only the fingers at their facilework displayed no emotion.
Garth questioned if George always worked under this strain. Did any ofthe responsibility rest with this room? Since his first entrance overthe prostrate form of the watchman, since his first touch of thoseunyielding walls, he had himself experienced a distaste for theapartment. This may have been accounted for in part by that single,brilliant shaft of light, which, illuminating the nest of this perilousbooty, deepened the shadows elsewhere.
Garth could make out little. His eyes failed to explore thecorners, succeeded only in reaching the divan and one or two easychairs--furniture altogether incongruous in a chemist's laboratory.
Although the water streamed from George's face, he saw the man shiver.It started an expository train of thought. The last time this job hadbeen attempted Kridel had been killed--in this house, almost certainlyin this room. He recalled the superstitious fears of many criminals.Perhaps that accounted in a degree for the other's bared nerves.
"May take time," George jerked out again. "If I could only use a drilland a touch of nitro."
He whistled softly.
"None of that rough business here. Good Lord, Simmons, don't let thatstuff go off."
Nora leaned forward.
"Scared, George?"
The question brought fire.
"Show me anybody else who'd do this stunt with more nerve."
"Slim must think a lot of you to put you at it twice."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Didn't you fall down on it last time?"
"Ask Slim," he said shortly. "This is the time I'm interested in, and ifwe pull it off--"
He reached over, tapping the mahogany with ritual precaution.
"If we pull it off, Nora, you're going to quit fooling with me. I'vedangled a long time, and we'll have plenty of money then."
Physical greed for a moment drove the uneasiness from his eyes.
"Maybe, when I get the door open, you'll give me that kiss I've beenwaiting for."
Garth felt shame that he had the impulse to risk his mission for thiswoman he should have loathed. He wanted to take the burly, glisteningthroat between his hands. He controlled himself with an effort. But hecould not experience for the girl that just loathing.
She had altered subtly. At George's question her form had lost itsalertness and had assumed the unyielding lines of a somnambulist; andher voice had the colorless tone of one who speaks out of a dream.
"Maybe when you get it open, George. Time enough to think of that then.I'm not so sure you'll open it. I'm not so sure of your nerve."
"Wait and see," h
e said. "You're a pretty one to talk about nerve. Youlook as though you'd seen a ghost."
She sank back in a heap. She screened her face with her hands. Georgestared.
"Now what--"
"Don't say that, George," she whispered. "Not here. Ever since I've beenin this room--it--it doesn't feel right."
She trembled.
"Hurry! I'm afraid here."
"Hold the light up," he said roughly. "What's the matter with you? Thisisn't a graveyard."
He resumed his manipulation of the knob. Garth noticed that from time totime he glanced quickly over his shoulder at the somber corners of theroom.
Nora had, to a certain extent, startled Garth. Her barely audible wordsstill breathed disquietingly in his ears. They had been like a bow drawnacross a string too tightly stretched.
She kept her face hidden now while George worked. The only sound was themuffled clicking of the balls in the combination; the only light, theshaft from the lamp which she held unsteadily. The thought of the steelwalls added to the oppression of the air. Garth breathed withdifficulty. He fancied once that something moved behind the divan.George caught his start and demanded an explanation. He scoldedquerulously.
"Well," Garth croaked, "I agree with the lady. I don't like the room."
"I looked around," George said.
Nora lowered her arms.
"George," she said, "sometimes you can't see everything."
She straightened. That disquieting, colorless whisper came again.
"I know what it is. That cop was killed here, wasn't he?"
"What do I know about it?" he asked angrily.
She leaned closer and grasped his arm.
"Right here, George. And if he--It must have been just like this--thistime of night--when he--George! Can't we turn on the lights?"
He swallowed hard.
"Why not send out a call for the patrol? What do you mean, if he--"
She shivered.
"I don't like places where people have died hard. That's what I feltwhen I came in here. But you--you're not afraid?"
He turned momentarily from his work. He tried with indifferent successto fill his voice with challenge. Afterwards he looked up expectantly asthough he was far from certain the challenge might not be accepted.
"Afraid! A man with a red heart afraid of dead ones! They never comeback."
"Don't say that. I know. My mother told me such things. She was Italian.She knew. She saw. George, don't say that. It's like cursing the dead.And he lay right there, didn't he, George, between you and the safe?That's why Slim stayed outside. Maybe Slim killed him. I want to go,too. Let Simmons hold the lamp."
"No," George said. "That thing he wears isn't human company. You stay."
Garth wondered that in that fantastic light the girl's manner should seta cold anxiety rippling along his own nerves. He looked with anunnatural curiosity at the place which she had indicated.
Evidently she had yielded to an excess of terror. In spite of George'scommand she was trying to pass the lamp to Garth. It slipped from herfingers, and the white shaft circled swiftly downwards. She caught thehandle before it reached the floor, but now the only light in the roomwas a narrow circle which bored into the carpet and exposed a dark,irregular stain.
Nora cried chokingly.
"Blood! George! That's his blood!"
Cursing, George reached forward, caught her arm, and swung the lightaway from this desolate reminder of tragedy.
"No wonder!" she whispered. "No wonder Slim didn't have the nerve tocome back and do those same things. He'd have seen the man he'd killedbetween him and his work."
Garth could scarcely catch her voice.
"If I thought you had that much nerve, George, I might--I believe Imight--"
She broke off abruptly. George stared at her, then turned back andfumbled for the knob.
"Try to keep the light steady, Nora."
There was a beseeching, child-like quality in his tone. He worked withdifficulty now. His hands were no longer perfect mechanical tools. Theywavered about the knob. His lips twitched. Perspiration thickened on hisface. Garth saw drops glitter and fall slowly to the stained carpet.
Garth caught himself paradoxically wishing George to hurry. For a momenthe was relieved when a new sound came from the combination, and Georgewith a sigh turned the handle.
"Ready to open," he said.
He swung on Nora.
"Talk about Slim! Crying, Nora? Good Lord--"
"Don't, George," she said. "If I half close my eyes I can see himthrough my tears, lying here in the shadows. Can't you?"
He clasped his arms about her. He hid his eyes in her hair.
"Hush," he said hoarsely. "And, while Simmons does his work, give methat kiss."
Garth's fingers reached out, then he thought of the frayed piece ofpaper possibly in the inspector's hands and already urging the night toa successful climax. This anguish, too, he must suffer. So he drew backprofoundly shaken.
Nora, however, was protecting her lips.
"You promised--" George began.
"I said if you had that much nerve. But I know you haven't. Even if youhad croaked him you wouldn't dare acknowledge it here. Why, George,you're kneeling where he lay."
He threw back his shoulders. He laughed demonstratively.
"What difference does that make? I'm kneeling to you. And let Slim rave.I'll give you your price. You needn't be ashamed to kiss me, Nora. Itwasn't Slim. I did it. The cop jumped me from behind that sofa, and Ilet him have the knife."
He raised his lips expectantly.
Garth didn't understand at first. He only realized with a savage joythat their lips did not touch. Yet he questioned why the big man,instead of answering the temptation of that mouth, half-open andinviting, drooped backwards until he lay stretched on the floor.
George's cry in his ears aroused him, and he saw in the reeling, drunkenshaft of light that blood flowed and joined the ancient stain in thecarpet.
He arose. He knew what that scream would unloose upon them.
Springing backward, he grasped the handle of the safe and opened thedoors.
"Nora," he whispered. "Come here."
She obeyed him with mechanical precision; but when he took the lamp fromher listless hand, turning it upward to examine her face, he read in hereyes awakening realization and horror.
He snapped off the light. Still grasping her hand, he seated himself onthe floor with his back to the open safe. He drew her down. For a momenthe thought she would resist, then she yielded and sank passively to thecushion at his side.
"Why?" she asked.
"They will be here," he said. "There is no way out except through thatdoor which they will use. It is safer to wait here. Why don't theycome?"
"They are careful," she whispered back. "They will come slowly. Theywill take no chances."
He felt the quick shaking of her body.
"I know what I have done," she said, "what I have done to you."
He realized that his hand still grasped hers. He released it gently.
"I understand a little," he answered, "but if you cared enough toaccomplish this madness for him, you should have been even less kind tome than you were this afternoon."
"Perhaps," she answered. "Oh, I don't know. I don't know. I was soyoung. I loved him so much, and my father said his murderer would neverbe punished--justice must fail. Maybe it was my Italian blood, but Iswore over his body the day they buried him that, if there was no otherway, I would get justice for the poor boy. We were practically certainit was this gang. I said nothing to my father. Through a girl I hadhelped I met Slim. It pleased his vanity to have a spy at headquarters.I made him trust me. But I couldn't find out who--Yet sooner or later Iknew the time would come. That's why I worked so hard for to-night, whyI wouldn't let anything interfere, because I thought in this room--Well!You see--Listen!"
She breathed hard for a moment.
"Since I've known you I've doubted, but I couldn't turn bac
k. Youdespise me, Jim, but in a way I have done good. I made them respect me.I have restrained them. I think, because I have been with them, I havesaved lives. And always I had planned at the end to punish them as theydeserved. But now--in a trap. We're like mice in a trap, Jim. I've donethat to you. They'll find me out now, and what's behind the mask, too.They'll kill us both. They'll have to. Listen!"
"We'll make a fight of it, Nora," he said grimly. "No matter what I do,trust me."
"Hush!" she breathed. "I think the door is open."
"I'm going to flash the light," he answered.
"No. I know they are here. I know they are in the room. I hear--"
He snapped the button. The white shaft pierced the darkness. Nora hadbeen right. Slim and three others with ready revolvers were half wayacross the room. Garth put his finger to his lips.
"Sh--h," he said. "Wait! Don't come any closer."
"What's wrong, Simmons?" Slim whipped out. "Who called? That's George.What--"
"He got fresh with the girl," Garth answered.
Slim waited, taking in the details of the tableau, weighing Garth'swords and manner, studying Nora's collapsed figure and its proximity toGarth's.
"You're bluffing, Simmons," he said at last. "I'm after facts now. Tossup your hands."
He raised his revolver, aiming at Garth's body. Nora gave a little cry.Garth laughed.
"You don't quite understand," he answered slowly, "and you're usually soobservant, Slim. Look around. The safe is open behind us. Your bulletswould clip through Nora and me into those sacks of army destroyers. Whatthen? So you won't be surprised when I take my hands down."
He lowered them. He took his own revolver from his pocket.
"But," he went on, "there's nothing behind you but a steel wall, and ifone of you comes a step closer I'll shoot."
The four gathered together, whispering, inaudibly to Garth; but thistense grouping, this excited council warned him of their only possibleanswer.
"If you try to rush me," he cried, "or if you try to get out of theroom, I'll turn the revolver on the safe and blow the whole lot of us topowder in this pleasant steel shell."
Slim turned, white-faced.
"You wouldn't have the nerve," he said. "After all, you're a bull."
"Just to show you," Garth answered quietly, "I'll put the whole pack onthe table. You've called the turn, Slim. I'm that."
He snatched the mask from his face, and took a police whistle from hispocket. He raised it to his lips. He blew a call which he felt wouldpenetrate beyond these steel walls. It was the first unrestrained soundthe room had heard that night. It thrilled Garth. It was like a tonic.He laughed outright.
"No more fighting in the dark. Thank God!"
The four men stared with the helpless rage, the abandoned suffering ofsnared animals.