CHAPTER IV
_The Opening Gun_
"That list, Tyler," said Bentley, after he had somewhat calmed thefears of Ellen Estabrook and had returned to the task of tracingBarter, "is headed by Harold Hervey, the multi-millionaire. I knowBarter well enough to know that he'll go down the list methodically,taking each person in turn. We'd best take immediate precautions toguard the old man's home. For Barter, if not entirely ready to takedrastic steps, must be almost ready, else he couldn't issue hismanifestoes and take a chance of some slip-up before he could getreally started."
"Why do you suppose he named Hervey on the list?" asked Tyler.
"Because Hervey is a financial genius. Barter wishes not only to carryout his plan of creating a race of supermen, but wishes at the sametime to maintain personal control of them. And to control Manhattan,from which he logically hopes to extend his control to the wholeUnited States, then to the whole world, Barter must also control themoney marts. Hervey is the shrewdest financier in the world."
"But won't we frighten Hervey's family if we take steps now?"
"Better to frighten them now than to be too late entirely. However, wecan place his house under surveillance without the knowledge of thefamily for the time being. And you'd better send a couple of men tohis office in the Empire State Building to see that nothing happensto him on the way home this evening. I talked to him by telephone andhe pooh-poohed the whole thing. Hard-headed business executives haveno imagination."
Bentley and Tyler rode uptown in the back seat of a speeding policecar driven by one of the best chauffeurs Bentley had ever riddenbehind. He edged through holes in the traffic where Bentley couldscarcely see any holes at all. He estimated the speed of cars whichmight have collided with the police vehicle and slipped through withinches to spare. In his way the man was a genius. But Bentley was yetto see the driving of a master genius....
- - -
Far out in the residential district the police car came to astop. Other police cars arrived at intervals to disgorge men inplain clothes who immediately entered upon their guard duties asunobtrusively as possible. If Hervey's family noticed at all theywould scarcely attach any importance to the arrival of cars and thedischarging of passengers who seemed to have nothing to do exceptdawdle on the sidewalks.
But all the way uptown a hunch had ridden Bentley. He had the feelingthat no matter how fast the police car traveled, no matter howskilfully the chauffeur inched his way through the press, they wouldbe too late to save Hervey. The feeling became an obsession. Manytimes he called through the speaking tube.
"Faster, driver, for God's sake, faster!"
Now near the home of Harold Hervey, Bentley found himself unable towalk slowly, with the air of nonchalance, which the other policeofficers wore like a cloak.
"Something's happened," said Bentley, "I'm sure of it. I feel thatBarter is so close to me that I could touch him if I knew in whichdirection to extend my fingers."
Suddenly a speeding car, with horn bellowing, came crashing up thestreet toward the Hervey residence. It was traveling at great speed,careening from side to side like a ship in a storm at sea.
"There comes Hervey's car," said Tyler. "And something has happened tomake him travel like that. Old man Hervey doesn't allow his chauffeurto go faster than twenty miles an hour."
- - -
Tyler and Bentley were near by when the car squealed to a stop beforethe Hervey residence and a hatless, disheveled man leaped out almostbefore the car stopped rolling.
"That's not Hervey," said Tyler. "That's his private secretary.Something's up. It's time we took a hand in things."
Tyler and Bentley grasped the young man by the elbow.
"What's up?" demanded Tyler.
"It's Mr. Hervey, sir," panted the secretary. "It just happened. He'sbeen kidnaped!"
The secretary was a slight man, but fear had given him strength. Healmost dragged Tyler and Bentley off their feet as he strode on up thewalk leading to the home of Hervey.
"You'll scare his family half to death!" said Tyler.
"It'll have to come sometime, Tyler," said Bentley. "It might as wellbe now. They'll have to know. We'll have to sit inactively from thismoment on. Tyler, there's nothing that can be done for Hervey. Barterhas scored. We couldn't catch him now to save ourselves fromperdition. But his next step will involve the Hervey menage. We'llhave to wait there for his next move."
Tyler and Bentley entered the vast gloomy structure of theold-fashioned Hervey domicile on the heels of the frightenedsecretary. Mrs. Hervey, a faded woman of sixty or so, met them at thedoor. Her head was held high, her lips grimly drawn into a straightline.
"So," she said evenly, "they've got Mr. Hervey. I begged him to takethose threats seriously. He's been either killed or kidnaped."
"Kidnaped," said Bentley, continuing brutally because of the couragehe saw in the old woman's face. "And that means he'll be dead withinthe hour, if he isn't dead already. We've got to stay here for a fewhours, to await the next move of the madman calling himself the MindMaster, in the hope that we can trace him when he makes his nextmove."
Mrs. Hervey lifted her head still higher.
"We'll place no obstacles in your path, gentlemen," she said, "if youare from the police. The family will confine itself to the upperfloors of the house."
- - -
Tyler and Bentley took possession of the living room. Outside a dozenplain-clothes men were to patrol the grounds during the hours ofdarkness.
Other men were at every adjacent street corner. A rat could not havegot through unobserved.
Tyler and Bentley took seats at a table facing the door. The policecar in which they had arrived stood at the curb, with the chauffeur atthe wheel, the motor humming softly.
"Timkins," said Bentley, addressing the private secretary who stood inthe most distant corner of the room, his eyes fearfully fixed on thestreet door, "how was Mr. Hervey captured?"
"I was accompanying him to his car, sir," replied the young man, "whena dapper fellow in a chauffeur's uniform confronted us on thesidewalk. He stood as stiff and straight as a soldier. He didn't say aword. He just looked at Mr. Hervey. Mr. Hervey stopped because the manwas blocking the sidewalk. I looked into the chauffeur's eyes. Theyseemed utterly dead. I shivered. I'd have sworn the man had no soul,now that I look back at it. Suddenly he lashed out with his fist,striking Mr. Hervey on the jaw. Mr. Hervey started to fall. The mancaught him under the arms and tossed him into the tonneau of alimousine at the curb. The car was away before I could summon thepolice."
Bentley nodded.
"Which way did the car go?" he demanded.
"Downtown, at top speed," replied Timkins.
Bentley turned to Tyler.
"The Stuyvesant exchange is downtown," he said. "Now Timkins says thatthe kidnaper's car went downtown. And the naked man was killed in theFlatiron Building, which is well downtown in its turn. Tyler, fill allthe area covered by the Stuyvesant exchange with plain-clothes men.Telephone Headquarters to see whether a stolen limousine has beenreported from somewhere in the area. Barter wouldn't have cars of hisown for fear they could be traced. He'll use stolen cars when he usescars at all. And he had his puppet pick up the limousine close to hishideout."
- - -
Tyler nodded and quickly spoke into the telephone on the table at hiselbow.
The telephone reminded Bentley of Ellen Estabrook.
When Tyler had finished issuing pointed instructions Bentley calledthe residence of the Estabrooks in Astoria, Long Island.
Carl Estabrook answered the telephone.
"Is Ellen all right?" asked Bentley. "May I speak to her?"
Carl Estabrook's answering gasp came plainly over the wire.
"Are you crazy, Lee?" he asked. "Not ten minutes ago you telephonedEllen and told her to meet you near the arch in Washington Square. Iasked her if she was sure the voice was yours, and she was...."
But Bentley, white
-faced, had already clicked up the receiver.
"Tyler," he said, "Ellen Estabrook, my fiancee, is walking into atrap. It's Barter again. He'd know how to imitate my voice well enoughto fool Ellen. It would be simple enough for a man like him. Heprobably had that long conversation with me at headquarters to makesure he hadn't forgotten the timbre and pitch of my voice ... and tohear how it sounded over the telephone. Please have plain-clothes menpick up Ellen in Washington Square. And that, Tyler, if you'll notice,is also downtown."
Bentley felt that he would go mad with anxiety as he awaited some newsfrom the plain-clothes men Tyler had ordered to look for EllenEstabrook.
He had asked Tyler to issue rather unusual instructions to theplain-clothes men around the Hervey residence. They were to make noattempt to halt anyone who might approach the house, but were topermit no one to depart. It was a weak plan, but knowing the supremeegotism of Barter, Bentley felt that the old scientist woulddeliberately accept such a challenge. He wouldn't mind risking theloss of a minion.
- - -
"He controls his puppets from his hideout, Tyler," Bentley explained,"and won't hesitate to send them into danger since it can't touch him.And he watches every move they make, too. He's made some televisionadaptation of his own. I'll wager, if he so desires, he can see ussitting here right now, even perhaps hear what we say. I can fancyhearing him chuckle, and Tyler...?"
"Yes?"
"I can see old man Hervey on an operating table with Barter bendingover him, working fiendishly. Behind Barter are cages of apes."
"But how could he transport apes to his hideout?"
"He could manage to smuggle anything anywhere. Money paves the way toany accomplishment, Tyler. We needn't concern ourselves with how hedoes it, but with the fact that he must surely have apes in hishideout."
There came suddenly an imperious ringing of the doorbell.
Bentley and Tyler leaped to their feet, their hands streaking fortheir automatics which they had placed within easy reach on the table.Side by side they sprang for the door, and flung it open.
A chill of horror ran through Bentley.
"Mother of God!" cried Tyler.
"Mr. Hervey!" shrieked Timkins. The secretary, noting the figure whichtoppled so grimly into the room, fainted. The thud of his bodyfollowed the thud of the old man's body to the floor.
In that first moment of overwhelming terror, all three men noted thatHervey's skull-pan was missing.
"Look after details here, Tyler!" cried Bentley, quickly recoveringhimself. "I'm after whoever brought the old man home."
Bentley was racing down the path for the street, where a man inchauffeur's uniform was hurling himself into a limousine, whilebullets from half a dozen plain-clothes men, racing to head him off,sang about his ears. But the stranger gained the driver's seat andthe limousine was away like a shot. The police car was rolling asBentley leaped upon the running board, then eased in beside thedriver.
"Don't stop for anything!" cried Bentley. "Keep that car in sight!"
The car headed downtown at breakneck speed.