Part 11 (1/2)
The position was very grave. If Fedoroff's information was correct--and d.i.c.k saw no reason to doubt it--here was a desperate scoundrel lurking in England armed with an aeroplane of unknown design and power, and in possession of a terrible secret which, unless his career was brought to an end, threatened the entire population of the country. But where was he hiding, and, above all, where was his machine? Could it possibly be hidden, d.i.c.k wondered, in the very heart of London? The idea was almost incredible, but d.i.c.k knew Barakoff's undoubted genius and his amazing daring.
A remarkable feature of Yvette's personality was her wonderful influence over children. They seemed literally to wors.h.i.+p her. She would get into conversation with the half-tamed _gamins_ of the streets and in a few hours they would be her devoted slaves. She now proceeded to enlist the ragged battalions of Soho in a fas.h.i.+on that caused Buckhurst much amus.e.m.e.nt.
”Find out for me all the hunchbacked men you can,” was all the instructions she gave them.
”But, mademoiselle,” said Inspector Buckhurst, ”it will be the talk of Soho, and our man if he is there will slip away.”
Yvette was unmoved.
”Just think a minute,” she said. ”Who can go about all day and all night without being suspected? The children. Who can go into dens where your men hardly dare to venture? The children. Who know all the hidden haunts of which your men are utterly ignorant? The children.
And finally, who are the most secretive people in the world? Again the children. Do not fear, Monsieur Buckhurst, they will not talk except among themselves, and that will do no harm.”
Buckhurst was far from satisfied, but he had gained such a respect for Yvette that he did not venture to override her. At the same time, he told her plainly that he should keep his own men busy. Yvette only laughed.
During the next forty-eight hours dozens of hunchbacked men were reported. Many of them were people whom not even the police knew. They were, of course, mostly harmless, but Buckhurst opened his eyes when one of them proved to be a notorious forger for whom the police had been looking for some months, and who had all the time been hidden under their very noses! Buckhurst began to feel a growing respect for the amazing French girl, who had beaten his smartest detectives on their own ground. But, unfortunately, none of the hunchbacks was the man they wanted, and at last they began to suspect that Fedoroff's information was at fault.
Then came a dramatic surprise. One of Yvette's small a.s.sistants, a sharp little Polish Jew boy, came to her with a strange story. He had been wandering about the night before and had seen a hunchbacked man let himself out of the side door of a big building half-way between Greek Street and War dour Street. The man had walked a considerable distance in a northerly direction into a part of London the boy did not know at all, and had entered an unoccupied house, stayed a few minutes, and come out again. The lad had shadowed him all the way, and had followed him homewards, until he again entered the building in Soho.
d.i.c.k, Jules, and Yvette turned out at once. The boy pointed out the building to them. It was a tall structure which dominated all the others in the vicinity. It was apparently a big shop with storerooms above. On the facia over the windows was the name ”Marcel Deloitte, Antique Furniture.” There was nothing to indicate that it differed in the slightest degree from dozens of other shops and buildings in the neighbourhood. Yet d.i.c.k felt suspicious.
”We can do nothing till I get the Mohawk handy,” said d.i.c.k. ”I will bring her down to-night.”
And he paused.
”I wish you would keep out of this, Yvette,” he went on wistfully. ”It is going to be very dangerous, I am convinced.” The French girl was growing very dear to him, and he shuddered at the idea of her being mixed up in the coming struggle with a desperado of Barakoff's type.
But Yvette shook her head.
”I'm in this to the finish, d.i.c.k,” was all she said in her pretty broken English, and d.i.c.k knew he could not move her. But he was full of fear.
That afternoon another explosion of the pale-violet vapour occurred in North London not far from Finsbury Park Station. d.i.c.k rushed to the spot with the boy who had followed the hunchbacked man, and the lad recognised the place without hesitation. The house destroyed was, he was confident, the one the hunchback had entered the night before.
Barakoff was located at last! But how was he to be captured? The problem was not so easy.
It was vital that, if possible, he should be taken alive. They knew what would follow the explosion at Finsbury Park, and there was a chance at least that if Barakoff were captured the secret of the disease, and possibly the antidote, might be wrung from him. If they could succeed in that hundreds of lives would be saved.
Together the three worked out a careful plan for the _coup_ they intended to bring off next morning.
Very early a dozen street arabs were playing innocently close to the two entrances of the mysterious building. They were chosen specimens of Yvette's band of ragam.u.f.fin detectives, and she knew that if Barakoff tried to escape he would have no chance of eluding their keen eyes. All the approaches were blocked by detectives, but Yvette insisted that none should approach the house itself. It was essential to the success of their plan that Barakoff's suspicions should not be aroused.
From the roof of a big building half a mile away, d.i.c.k made a careful examination of what he was now convinced was Barakoff's hiding-place.
But he could see little. The roof was flat, but it was surrounded by a parapet practically breast high. There was obviously plenty of room to conceal a small aeroplane, but d.i.c.k could see nothing.
d.i.c.k and Buckhurst together saw the proprietor of the building from which d.i.c.k had made his observations. He readily consented to d.i.c.k's plan, and towards evening placed a trusty commissionaire at the foot of the flight of steps leading to the roof with instructions that no one was to pa.s.s on any account whatever. Soon after dark the Mohawk dropped silently on to the flat roof. They were ready now to catch their bird!
In the morning Yvette, under the pretence of wis.h.i.+ng to buy some old furniture, entered the shop. So far as she could see there was nothing suspicious. There was a manager, evidently a Russian, and two a.s.sistants.
Asking for a Jacobean chest which she did not see in the shop, Yvette was at length invited to the upper floors. These she found to be full of furniture.
Climbing the stairs to the third floor, accompanied by the manager, Yvette found herself in a large room divided in the centre by a wall, and with a door in the middle. Opening this door the manager bowed to her to precede him, and Yvette, quite unsuspectingly, obeyed. Next second the door crashed to, and she heard a key turn in the lock. She was trapped!