Mrs Rainer and her daughter had long since gone to bed, when the Commissioner and Wallace arrived back at the bungalow. They found Sanders sitting moodily over a cigar and a whisky and soda in the drawing room. He greeted them with a grunt:
‘What’s the trouble, Colonel?’ asked Leonard. ‘You don’t look like a man who has done a good evening’s work? You haven’t lost Williams, have you?’
‘No, he is safely locked up! But I’ve had a telephone message from Simla, which is the very deuce.’
‘What has happened?’
‘Hartley phoned me that they were marching their prisoner up the hill from Annandale, when three mad bullocks dashed down into them and in the confusion the fellow got away.’
‘H’m! I thought an attempt at rescue would be made. So they tortured bullocks to do the trick, did they? Poor beasts!’
Sanders stared at him.
‘Blow the beasts!’ he growled. ‘I’ve lost my man!’
‘Never mind! Perhaps you’ll get the other!’
‘Oh, Hartley raided the house right away, and took six men and women into custody, among them a Mahsaud.’
‘Probably the murderer, so why grumble?’
‘Hartley is a fool!’
Rainer laughed.
‘I can see poor Hartley having a bad quarter of an hour when you get back, Sanders,’ he said.
‘And he deserves it. I would have gone tonight only I was too late for the train. Can I have a car in the morning to take me back?’
Rainer nodded.
‘What are you going to do with Williams?’ he asked.
‘Leave him under your care for the present. Isn’t that what you want me to do, Sir Leonard?’
‘Yes,’ said Wallace. ‘He’ll be safer here!’
‘How did you get on tonight?’ asked the Colonel, after a pause, during which each of them was busily occupied in munching sandwiches and sipping their whisky.
Leonard and Rainer gave him an account of the night’s doings between them, and when they had finished he whistled.
‘There is an address at Simla, which I did not send through to the Commissioner,’ added Wallace. ‘I left it for you to raid when you get back. Here it is!’
He took the exercise book from his pocket, and read out the address in question, Sanders writing it down in his pocket book almost with an air of grim triumph.
‘A most respectable firm,’ he said. ‘I’ll make them more respectable!’
‘You’re properly on the war-path tonight,’ smiled Rainer. ‘Have another drink?’
‘No, thanks; I’ll go to bed. I want to be away as early as possible. When do you expect to hear from Major Brien?’ he asked Leonard.
‘Haven’t the slightest idea. A call might come through at any time now.’
‘He’s been gone for nearly three hours,’ said Rainer. ‘I wonder which direction they’ve taken!’
‘To make a guess,’ said Wallace, ‘I should say Levinsky is undoubtedly heading for Karachi. If it were only daylight I’d follow in the plane, though it would be a bit risky. Levinsky is such a tricky beggar that he might be heading for anywhere.’
‘You’d better have a rest, Sir Leonard,’ said the local Commissioner. ‘Go and lie down; I’ll call you when a message comes through!’
‘No, thanks. I’ll just rest in this easy chair if you’ve no objection. But there is no necessity for you to stay up.’
‘Oh, I’ll stay with you, sir, of course. Come along, Sanders; I’ll show you your room; then I’ll return!’
Sanders shook hands warmly with Wallace before following his host.
‘I hope it will not be long before I have the pleasure of meeting you again, Sir Leonard,’ he said.
‘I’ll look you up before I leave India,’ replied the latter, and the two parted.
Rainer presently returned with a smile on his face.
‘Your man is making himself thoroughly at home in the dining room,’ he said. ‘He has made remarkable havoc of a pile of sandwiches placed there for him, and looks perfectly happy.’
‘Batty has the faculty of making himself at home wherever he is. By the way has he got into his own clothes yet?’
‘Yes, and I should think by the shiny look of his face that he has been scrubbing it with soap.’
The two men lapsed into silence and conversation was very desultory for some time. At last the telephone bell rang, and Rainer immediately took down the receiver.
‘This is the Deputy Commissioner of Lahore speaking,’ he said in Urdu. ‘Who is that?’
‘Juggat Lal, Your Excellency, I am telephoning from Khanewal.’
‘Yes. What is the news?’
‘The Major sahib left me here to tell you that he is following Silverman sahib. He is going in the direction of Samasata!’
‘I see. Is he close behind the other car?’
‘Yes, Your Excellency. For a time there was firing, and the windscreen was smashed, but the Major sahib was too good a shot for the other to dare expose himself for long.’
‘Very well, Juggat Lal. You had better return to Lahore by the first train you can catch.’
‘It shall be done, Excellency.’
Rainer hung up the receiver and repeated the conversation to Wallace.
‘You are right, Sir Leonard,’ he said. ‘Your man is undoubtedly making for Karachi. But with Major Brien so close behind him, he hasn’t a ghost of a chance of escaping.’
‘I shouldn’t be so sure of that,’ said Wallace. ‘Although on the face of it one would not give a penny for his chances, he is such a slippery fellow that it is difficult to tell what he will do next.’
‘But he’ll have to stop for petrol before long, and, even if he can keep on for a few hours longer, daylight will make things hopeless for him. By Jove, sir, it was a stroke of genius on your part to have Major Brien waiting in that car for him.’
Leonard shrugged his shoulders.
‘Now that we know where Brien is,’ he said, ‘I shall follow in the aeroplane as early as possible. Perhaps we shall be able to leave before daybreak. At all events I’ll run up to the Cantonments at half past four. So go and lie down and get some sleep, Rainer. I’ll remove this make-up, and then rest in here.’
‘Are you sure you’ll be all right, Sir Leonard?’ asked the other anxiously.
‘Quite, thanks!’
They walked along the hall, looking in the dining room on the way. Batty was lying on a settee, with his hands crossed over his stomach, and, from the rhythmic sounds which issued from his half-open mouth, there was little doubt but that the sailor was sailing somewhere in the ocean of dreams. They smiled at each other and proceeded on their way.
Bidding Rainer ‘good night’, Wallace entered the little room he had used earlier in the evening and soon had removed all traces of his disguise, and dressed himself in his own clothes. He put the three photographic copies of the plans in a small attaché case inside the suitcase, and locked it. Then packing away the clothes he had worn, he fastened the suitcase, and carried it into the drawing room. Here he made himself comfortable in an armchair, and placed the case on the floor with his feet resting on it. In five minutes, to all intents and purposes, he was fast asleep.
At a quarter past four, Rainer entered the room followed by a bearer with tea and toast. Leonard welcomed him with a smile.
‘This is very thoughtful of you,’ he said. ‘You’ll be glad when I have gone.’
‘Not at all, Sir Leonard. I have thoroughly enjoyed our association, and your methods have been an object lesson to me.’
‘Thanks for the compliment! Is Batty about yet?’
‘Yes. He’s out in the pantry drinking tea.’
At that moment the sailor appeared at the door.
‘Mornin’, sir!’ he said touching a forelock.
‘Good morning, Batty. Have you slept well?’
‘Yes, thank ye kindly, sir. I could have done with some more, though,’ he added.
‘No time for sleep these days, Batty. You’ll have to make up for it when the excitement is over. Take this suitcase out to the car, and don’t let it out of your sight!’
‘Aye, aye, sir!’
‘Where is the other?’
‘Already stowed aboard, sir.’
‘Good!’
Batty lifted the suitcase, and taking it out to the car, placed it on the seat next to the driver’s, and sat on it.
‘Don’t know if this is strictly correct,’ he muttered. ‘The skipper said, “Don’t let it out o’ your sight.” I can feel it, but it ain’t in sight.’
He scratched his head, then, after a moment’s thought, stood up, lifted the case and, sitting down again, placed it on his knees.
‘Now, yer lubber,’ he said, ‘I’ve got me peepers fixed on yer, an’ I’d ’ave ter go blind afore yer could slip yer cables.’
Wallace was about to go out to the car when the telephone bell rang, and he stood by as Rainer lifted the receiver to his ear. The latter listened a moment, then ‘Yes, you’ve just caught him. Hold the line.’ He handed the receiver to Leonard. ‘Major Brien is at the other end,’ he said.
Leonard listened to Billy’s description of how he had lost Levinsky with mingled feelings. After he rang off he told the Commissioner what had happened.
‘This makes it all the more imperative that I should get away at once,’ he added. ‘Will you communicate with me at Delhi if anything happens, and if I am not there, leave a message. See that Williams is most carefully watched, and that he has no chance of committing suicide!’
‘Very well, Sir Leonard.’
Wallace warmly bade the Commissioner ‘goodbye’, and soon he and Batty were speeding to the Cantonments. The driver, who appeared to be half asleep, caused Batty a good deal of anxiety by the erratic way in which he steered the car.
‘Belay!’ he roared, as they mounted the path. ‘Not so much to port, yer swab. Keep her nice and steady, not like a windjammer in a West Injun ’urricane!’
However, they reached the Royal Air Force depot without accident, and it took some time to find Forsyth and his companions. A sergeant on duty at last discovered where the two pilots were sleeping, and Wallace roused a servant and sent him to convey his salaams to them.
In three minutes Forsyth appeared in his dressing gown, followed by a sleepy-eyed Hallows,
‘Sorry to disturb you,’ said Wallace, ‘but things have happened which make it imperative for us to get off as soon as possible. Can you get away now?’
Forsyth looked at the sky.
‘I’ll get the C.O. to give us a few flares, sir,’ he said, ‘then we’ll be all right. Come in for a minute, Sir Leonard! It won’t take us long to dress.’
The airman was as good as his word, and in a remarkably short space of time quite a number of men were hurrying about preparing flares and running the huge machine from the hangar in which it had been housed.
The C.O. was apparently keen to do all he could for his distinguished visitor, and the depot became a regular hive of industry. At last everything was in readiness, and Wallace thanked the keen-eyed airman, who, on being roused by Forsyth, had risen from his bed without a grumble and shown such promptitude and readiness to aid them.
The flares cast weird ghostly shadows across the ground, but there was ample light to take off by and, as soon as Forsyth had been carefully instructed as to the direction of Samasata, they were off. The aeroplane rose into the air without the slightest mishap and sped at tremendous speed towards the south-west. Gradually the dawn broke, and objects below became clearer until at length the rising sun spread his rays in a golden glory over the countryside.
At a quarter past seven they reached Samasata, and glided to the ground just as a man on a motorcycle drew up. He asked for Wallace, and introduced himself as the Superintendent of police. He repeated the conversation he had had with Brien, and described the measures he had taken to apprehend Levinsky.
‘So far we have had no luck, sir,’ he added, ‘but Major Brien has gone off on the trail of a man dressed as a Pathan whom he suspects of being the Russian in disguise.’
‘Have they gone on towards Karachi?’
‘No, sir. It appears that the fellow is making for Bhatinda, or perhaps even farther.’
‘Bhatinda! That is in the opposite direction, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. I have had two telephone messages from Major Brien, one from the railway station here and the other from Chistien.’
‘What were they?’
‘He first told me to tell you that he suspected this Pathan of being his man, that he had sent a detective to travel with him and keep a watch on him, and that he himself would go by car and stop at all stations where the train was due, having arranged a system of signals with the detective.. Then as soon as he was certain that his suspicions were correct, he would arrest him.’
‘Good! And the other?’
‘He informed me from Chistien that the Pathan was still in the train, and that he (Major Brien) was going on to MacLeodganj Road. This second message only reached me about a quarter of an hour ago.’
‘Have you any idea what time the train will reach there?’
‘Yes, sir; I looked it up. It was twenty minutes late here, so can hardly get there before nine.’
Wallace called Forsyth.
‘Do you think you can get to MacLeodganj Road by nine?’ he asked.
‘How far away is it, Sir Leonard?’
The Superintendent replied.
‘About a hundred and sixty miles,’ he said.
‘Then we can do it easily,’ said Forsyth.
‘Splendid!’ said Wallace. ‘Follow the road, Forsyth, and we will probably sight Major Brien!’ He turned to the policeman and held out his hand. ‘Thanks very much,’ he said. ‘I shall be obliged if you will keep within telephone reach for the next few hours – I may want your aid again.’
‘Certainly, Sir Leonard. I’ll be waiting.’
He told Forsyth the direction he was to follow, and in a couple of minutes the aeroplane flew above the narrow white strip which indicated the road to Bhatinda. They passed Chistien not more than a thousand feet up, and travelling at a very high speed.
Wallace, with a pair of powerful field glasses focused on the road, kept watch and at length had the satisfaction of seeing a tiny dot moving along ahead of them. At the same time he caught a glimpse of a railway station, and knew it to be MacLeodganj Road. A train was just drawing into the station.
‘Apparently we all arrive together,’ he murmured.
They were soon very close to the station, and Forsyth circled around to find a landing-place. As he did so Wallace saw Brien jump out of the car, and run into the building, only to emerge a moment later and go to a piece of waste ground close by.
The aeroplane dropped lower and lower – Forsyth had found his landing-place – and passed over the top of the station building not more than twenty feet from it. Leonard, looking downwards, saw Billy; saw him turn; saw his hand upraised as though to ward off a blow, and then sink into an unconscious heap, as a heavy implement wielded by a burly looking Pathan descended on his head.
The plane touched the ground, rose slightly, bumped, and then glided along for a few yards and came to rest. It had hardly stopped when Wallace, closely followed by Batty, dashed from the saloon towards the station.
Just before they reached it they saw the Pathan run towards what was obviously Billy’s car. He brought down the Sikh driver, who was standing by it, with a blow from the deadly-looking instrument he held in his hand and turning dealt in the same summary fashion with a small man who was following him. Then jumping into the car he started it and was away. Wallace tried a shot, but he was too far off to do any damage.
‘We’ll get him yet, Batty,’ he said. ‘Go back for the mechanics! Major Brien is lying hurt in the station yard.’
He just glanced at the fallen forms of the driver and the other man, and saw at once that their turbans had saved them from serious injury. Billy was in a worse condition, the blood streaming copiously from an ugly wound above the right temple.
Staunching it as best he could with his pocket handkerchief, Wallace watched his friend with anxious eyes.
‘Levinsky, you brute,’ he murmured. ‘I’ll be more than even with you for this. You have taken on a greater debt than you’ll ever be able to pay!’