Microbes of Power (Wallace of the Secret Service Series) (30 page)

Obeying the instructions given to them by Sir Leonard, Shannon and Tempest had made a circuit, coming up behind the group of men standing under the cypress tree. Their approach was unnoticed, due to the great caution they exercised and the anxious watch the four men were keeping on the activities of Kyprianos. The Secret Service agents concealed themselves behind some bushes, and waited. They heard the others give expression to their alarm in various forcible ejaculations, when the police accosted Kyprianos. As he drew the automatic, however, and commenced shooting, their exclamations became more suggestive of thwarted and disappointed fury. The game was completely up, and they knew it. All that was left for them to do was to get away as quickly as possible. They turned at once to escape, stood stricken with utter dismay. Confronting them was the gigantic Englishman they had left to be burnt to death. A cynical, though amazingly good-humoured smile, considering the treatment to which he had been subjected, was on his face; the revolver, held steadily pointed at them, was eloquent proof that his intentions were not exactly friendly.

‘Isn’t this nice,’ he observed. ‘There’s Plasiras, Bikelas, Michalis,
Padakis – Uncle Tom Cobbley and all. Well met, gentlemen. We’ll take a little walk, if you please.’

They stood too much in awe of this man to make any attempt at resistance. It was not so much the weapon he held as their knowledge of his might which kept them subdued. Directing them to lead him to the bungalow they had occupied, he forced them to walk two by two in front of him, assuring them he would shoot, without the slightest hesitation, anyone who attempted to escape.

Tempest did not show himself, but he was following, ready to aid Shannon in case of necessity. Sir Leonard had given him strict orders to keep out of sight, unless necessity made it imperative for him to appear. It would not be wise for the Rome manager of
Lalére et Cie
to be seen taking part in matters so much at variance with the sale of perfumes and other articles dear to the feminine heart.

A short distance from the scene of his coup, Shannon glanced quickly back to observe the car on fire and the body of Kyprianos lying grotesquely over the steering wheel. He cheerfully informed his captives of the fact, but was met with sullen silence as they tramped on dejectedly before him. Their thoughts must have been distinctly unhappy ones he decided, and smiled to himself. They reached the bungalow, the door was opened, and the four entered, reminded by a further warning from Shannon of the fate that would overtake them, if they attempted what he called ‘funny business’. He marshalled them into a small room, and courteously bade them to be seated.

‘You may be here for some time,’ he went on, as though chatting with friends, ‘so you may as well make yourselves comfortable. From all accounts, Italian prisons are not the most luxurious of residences.’

Bikelas shot him a terror-stricken look. Gone was the Greek’s
suavity of manner, while there was no expression of benevolence now in a face that had become white and pasty-looking.

‘It is not your intention to hand us over to the police?’ he gasped.

‘It is,’ returned Shannon. ‘Of course, if it had been left to me, I should probably set about the lot of you myself by way of reprisal. It’s a pity I can’t. It isn’t that I mind so much that you left me to burn, but the fact that you treated a young girl in the same manner makes my blood boil.’ His voice had lost its casual note, and had become very stern. ‘You, above all, Bikelas, deserve to be hanged – indeed, hanging is far too good for you. Thalia Ictinos was, in a sense, a member of your family. Your wife, I believe, was very fond of her. Yet you could countenance the dastardly act conceived in the brain of a madman.’

‘I suffered most at her hands,’ retorted Bikelas, ‘for she betrayed my confidence in her.’

‘How did you get away?’ snapped Plasiras.

‘Didn’t you see? We thought you’d be sure to be watching. Oh! I suppose you were too busy keeping observation on the garage, and wondering how to get the car out with its very valuable luggage.’

Exclamations of surprised consternation broke from the four men.

‘How did you know about the car and – and what it contained?’ asked Bikelas, almost in a tone of awe.

‘You’d better ask the man who has baulked your intentions at every turn,’ replied Shannon drily. ‘He will be here in a moment.’

‘Who is he?’

The sound of voices reached their ears.

‘You are about to meet him,’ returned the Englishman.

Four pairs of eyes looked towards the door, through which there presently entered a slim, upright figure. The conspirators saw before them a man with an attractive, good-humoured face, in which a
pair of remarkably sharp, steel-grey eyes belied his general air of nonchalance. He stood for a moment regarding them, his left hand thrust casually into his pocket, his right holding a pipe.

‘A poor looking bunch,’ he commented. ‘Did you have any difficulty with them, Hugh?’

‘Not a bit, sir. They were most lamblike. I haven’t searched them for weapons. They’re probably well-armed.’

‘Hill,’ called Sir Leonard. The ex-doctor entered the room; looked questioningly at him. ‘Relieve those fellows of any weapons they may possess,’ directed the chief; ‘we don’t want them to get hurt, if we can help it.’

Hill commenced at once on his task, Shannon standing by very much on the alert. No resistance was attempted, the four appearing to be thoroughly cowed. Plasiras alone showed any vestige of spirit. As he was being searched, he regarded Hill’s bandages with a mocking look in his eyes.

‘So!’ he sneered. ‘The Austrian art student has been playing with fire, it seems, and has burnt his fingers.’

‘Be quiet, Mr Dictator!’ returned Hill. ‘As a certain royal lady would have said, “We are not amused”.’

The four certainly had been well armed. Six revolvers, with ammunition, and three knives were taken from them. Sir Leonard had sent Tempest to the British ambassador with a message to the effect that the diplomat could now act at once, giving the address at which the men were being held captive. Tempest also had instructions to visit Thalia, and advise her to ring up the Greek embassy, if she could; otherwise to give him a note telling her people to act immediately on her report. On his return, the manager of
Lalére et Cie
was to bring back General Radoloff.

‘As far as I know,’ remarked Wallace, when the conspirators had
been disarmed, ‘there remain only two unaccounted for. Kyprianos is dead, Baltazzi is in hospital. It will not be difficult to lay Bruno by the heels. What has happened to Doreff?’ he demanded of Plasiras.

The Greek shrugged his shoulders.

‘I do not know,’ he replied sullenly. ‘He has, I suppose, run away.’

‘Well, it doesn’t matter much about him. He will never dare to show his face again, if he does escape.’

It may as well be mentioned in passing that Monsieur Doreff was arrested a few days later in Brindisi, whilst attempting to escape from Italy.

Sir Leonard put a few other questions to the captives, which they refused to answer. He found out, however, rather to his relief, that Madame Bikelas had, as he expected, already been sent to a place of safety. He went on a tour of inspection, during which he came upon a good deal of evidence against the men who had conspired together to obtain power by means so diabolical. This he placed ready for the Italian authorities. It was while he was away that Michalis made a desperate bid for freedom. Now that the captives were unarmed, Shannon had put away his own revolver, knowing quite well that he could quickly draw it again if necessary, though confident that he could deal with any trouble that might arise without having recourse to a weapon. Lulled into the belief that the two Englishmen were off their guard – he can hardly have made a bigger mistake in his life – Michalis suddenly made a dash for the door. He did not reach it. An enormous hand grabbed him round the neck, another caught hold of his leg, and he was flung back across the room on top of the other three, who were about to follow him. They all went to the floor together.

‘Don’t be obstreperous, little man!’ growled Shannon, wiping
his hands as though they had touched something unclean.

Hill glanced at the four men lying on the floor, apparently too surprised at the moment to rise; then looked reprovingly at his companion.

‘For goodness’ sake, Hugh,’ he begged, ‘do give a little thought to those wounds of yours. They’ll never heal, if you persist in throwing – er – things about like that.’

There was no further attempt on the part of the prisoners to be ‘obstreperous’. If they had not known it before, they knew now that their chances of escape from that room were nil. Weaponless, the four of them were no match for the herculean Englishman, who threw grown men about as though they were dolls. They sat sullenly together thereafter, making no attempt to address remarks either to their captors or to each other. To judge from the expressions on their faces their thoughts were gloomy indeed. Nearly an hour went by before Tempest returned. He did not enter the bungalow, but contented himself with calling for the chief. Sir Leonard went to him; was informed that the ambassador had risen promptly from bed on receiving the message. He had gone round at once to see the Minister of Foreign Affairs, Tempest being kept waiting for his return at the embassy. Early as the hour was, the Italian minister had received his visitor and, on hearing what he had to say, called up the Minister of Justice. The result of the consultation was that the matter was immediately taken in hand. A force of police was already on its way. Thalia Ictinos had promptly telephoned the Greek ambassador from the house in which she was resting. She sent a message of congratulation that the affair had been brought to a successful termination. Tempest concluded by informing Sir Leonard that Radoloff was in the car outside. He and Merryweather brought him in blindfolded and with his hands tied behind him.
He was thrust by Wallace into the room where his confederates were incarcerated, demanding indignantly to know who dared lay hands on him; threatening all kinds of pains and penalties to those who had treated him – an important Bulgarian officer – with such violence.

‘That reminds me,’ observed Sir Leonard. ‘I must tell the embassy to explain to the representatives of Bulgaria.’

The handkerchief was removed from the general’s eyes by Shannon. Another torrent of invective suddenly ceased as he observed his companions in misfortune. Realisation of the truth dawned on him, and he grew as white and dismayed as they. Bikelas, who was nearest to him, began to whisper to him, and, as the Greek spoke, the Bulgarian’s face became more and more haggard. There were no further threats or indignant remonstrances from him.

Tempest and his assistant departed, followed shortly afterwards by Shannon and Hill, whom Sir Leonard did not wish the authorities to meet. They were instructed to remain within calling until the police arrived. Armed with a revolver, the chief stood on guard himself. The prisoners grew a little hopeful when they were left alone with a man leaning so nonchalantly against the door, his left hand pushed into his jacket pocket, but the hope was soon killed. Plasiras rose to his feet; stood measuring the other with his eyes.

‘Sit down!’ commanded Wallace. Plasiras continued to stand, whereupon, without another word, the Englishman fired twice in rapid succession, putting a bullet through each sleeve of the Greek’s coat, but not harming him. ‘Let that be a lesson to you,’ remarked Sir Leonard, as the other sat hastily down. ‘If you move again, I won’t be so kind.’

Shannon’s and Hill’s faces appeared at the window; grinned appreciatively as they saw Plasiras shakily examining the holes in his sleeves, and disappeared again. At last came the sound of
several cars drawing up outside, the noise of many men gathering, sharp words of command. Into the room presently stalked a high officer of the police, followed by several subordinates. He glanced curiously at the prisoners; turned to Sir Leonard, and saluted him.

‘I was told, signor,’ he remarked in excellent English, ‘that here I should meet Colonel Wallace of the British Diplomatic Service.’

‘I am he,’ returned Sir Leonard, putting away his revolver, and handing the other a card.

The newcomer took it with a bow, read it, and again saluted.

‘I am honoured, signor,’ he declared. ‘My name is Pirelli. These are the prisoners?’

‘They are. You will find any amount of evidence against them in this house; the rest will be provided by the British and Greek ambassadors. There is another man lying dead in a burnt-out car, which is already in the possession of the police. Two – a man called Doreff, who is a Bulgarian, and Bruno, who is a compatriot of yours, are still at liberty.’

The officer smiled.

‘Bruno has been already caught,’ he announced. ‘We know him by sight. He passed us in a car near the Porta Pinciana, was recognised, and chased by some of my men. He is by now in custody.’

‘Excellent,’ murmured Sir Leonard. ‘Then I will leave you to take charge. I shall be at the British embassy, when you require me.’

They shook hands, and Sir Leonard departed. Shannon and Hill joined him a short distance away, and they walked together to the house where Thalia awaited them, passing the burnt-out block of flats as they went. The fire had by that time been extinguished, though it still smouldered in places. The great house had been completely gutted, nothing but a mere shell remaining, in which
enormous gaps enabled observers to get a comprehensive view of the now piteous interior. The three Englishmen approached the heap of twisted metal that had once represented a motor car. A piece of the framework, a hinge, some broken glass were all that was left of the case and phials containing the deadly cultures. The virus, with its creator, had been destroyed completely. The world was safe from a disease that might have annihilated humanity.

Thalia welcomed them with a glad little cry. Hill went straight to her and, bending over, kissed her without a trace of embarrassment. Sir Leonard and Shannon smiled at each other, and were about to leave the room again, but she bade them stop.