Microbes of Power (Wallace of the Secret Service Series) Page 18

  ‘God be praised!’ she cried fervently. ‘I am indeed fortunate beyond my deserts. Tell me: have you thought of a way by which we can find out what those men are plotting?’

  ‘Do you think it would be possible for us to insert a microphone in the room which is used most for their discussions?’

  Remembrance of the manner in which the agents of Plasiras and Bikelas had endeavoured to obtain information from the Colonial Office had recurred to him on the previous night. It would be rather apt, he thought, if he could return the compliment. She frowned a little.

  ‘A microphone!’ she repeated. ‘Even if it were possible to put in place such an instrument, how could you or I listen to what was happening?’

  ‘That would be the least difficult part of the undertaking. Tell me how the flats are situated.’

  She gave him the information which he had already obtained from Hill.

  ‘At the end of the hall on the second floor is another flat,’ she added, ‘which I thought perhaps you might occupy, but today it has been let.’

  ‘Do you know who has taken it? Is he someone connected with your people?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘I only know that he is an Austrian gentleman by the name of Herr Kirche,’ she replied. ‘I am quite certain he is not known to the men I am observing. In fact, I heard Monsieur Kyprianos grumble about his coming. He said it was a great pity that a stranger should have come to live there, and that they would have been better advised to have rented that suite of rooms as well. You see, Monsieur Shannon, the rooms occupied by General Radoloff and Messieurs Kyprianos, and Michalis are opposite those of Messieurs Doreff and Plasiras. The flat of the Austrian gentleman is at the end of the hall adjoining both. It might have been very useful for you.’

  Shannon nodded.

  ‘Perhaps it would have been,’ he agreed; ‘yet I think, after all, it would be better if I did not live there, I do not wish to be seen particularly. Have you met the Austrian?’

  ‘No, but no doubt I will. You are interested in him?’

  ‘I am interested in everyone in that part of the building. Of course, you do not know which room is most likely to be used for conferences; that is hardly to be expected.’

  ‘But I do,’ she cried triumphantly. ‘All the time my ears are very wide open—’

  ‘They are not very big,’ he commented, glancing appreciatively at the one little shell-like appendage within his view.

  She laughed.

  ‘Not very big – no, but they hear well,’ she declared. ‘I learnt through these ears that are not big that the room of Monsieur Kyprianos is the one chosen for the discussions they will have. The bed has been removed, and in its place has been put a chair which becomes a bed at night. The room is now being fitted like a laboratory.’

  ‘H’m! They’re wasting no time. Did Kyprianos receive the case of which you told me?’

  ‘He obtained the permit yesterday through the influence of Signor Bruno. This afternoon the boat arrived from Naples, and he went with the two secretaries to obtain the box.’

  ‘I see. I suppose you haven’t been able to obtain a glimpse of Kyprianos’ apartment?’

  ‘No, but mine is directly underneath, and I believe is the same.’

  ‘Is it, by Jove! Then, Miss Ictinos, I think I see a way.’

  ‘Do you?’ she asked excitedly. ‘Please tell me! But, first, would it not be nicer for you to call me Thalia now we are comrades?’

  He smiled.

  ‘Thalia it shall be,’ he agreed. ‘My name is Hugh.’

  ‘I know. I heard that it was when – but I wish to forget that time. Will you please continue – Hugh.’

  ‘My idea all depends on the size of your fireplace and chimney. Is it one of the large kind one sees in so many houses in Rome?’

  ‘Yes; it is very big, and very ornamental.’

  ‘Good. Then tonight at midnight I will come to the building, if you will give me the address. Will you meet me outside, in order that I may know if the way is clear, and lead me to your room?’

  She looked quickly at him in a half-startled fashion.

  ‘Lead you to my room!’ she echoed.

  ‘Yes; you’re not afraid of me, are you, Thalia?’

  She laughed.

  ‘But no; of course I am not. But why do you wish to enter my room?’

  ‘I will bring with me a microphone and connections. Once in your room, I shall climb up the chimney, and fix the microphone in position adjacent to the room of Kyprianos. Then you and sometimes I will be able to listen to the conversation.’

  ‘How splendid!’ she cried; then looked him up and down dubiously. ‘But I doubt very much that you can climb up even that wide chimney – you are so big.’

  ‘I think I can manage. If not, we shall have to think of some other way. Will there be much risk to you in admitting me?’

  ‘We cannot bother about the risk,’ she retorted. ‘Entering from the outside hall there is a passage. The sitting room, which is also a dining room, if it is necessary, comes first; then is my bedroom. Beyond it is the room occupied by Madame and Monsieur – a very large room that. At the end of the little corridor is the apartment of the secretary, and next to it the bathroom. To come to you I will not have to pass by the other rooms, you will see, so there is not so much danger as there would be, if mine were at the end.’

  ‘Is there a hall porter?’

  ‘Yes; but only in the daytime. At night his little glass room is empty.’

  ‘You are sure of that?’

  ‘But certainly. Did I not pass by last night? It was locked up.’

  ‘Everything seems to be arranged to suit my purpose,’ he commented. ‘Then tonight at midnight! If you do not come to me, I will conclude there is danger, but I will wait for an hour. If you have not come by one o’clock, I will go away, and return again tomorrow night. Is that understood?’

  ‘Yes; I will come, unless they are about and make it impossible.’

  ‘You must not take any risks. Remember that everything depends on your remaining unsuspected, besides we must ensure that you do not run into danger.’

  ‘That is nothing,’ she remarked simply, ‘so long as my country does not suffer.’

  He made a note of her address, though, of course, he already knew it. Then they parted. He watched her as she walked away, her elegance once again charming him. Every movement Thalia Ictinos made was graceful, and yet all were eminently natural. There was nothing studied or artificial about her at all, a fact which undeniably added to her charm. Shannon found it increasingly difficult to realise that she was the same girl who had taken a delight in keeping his colleague Cousins chained to a wall, and had heaped humiliations upon him. It seemed ridiculous to think of the Thalia Ictinos who had just left him as the same Thalia Ictinos who had apparently been so entirely cruel-minded and callous. He came to the conclusion that she had spoken nothing but the truth in attributing her character, as he had previously known it, to the influence of her father. In her was undoubtedly a streak of the ruthlessness and cruelty of her parent, who had taken care to nourish and sustain it. Freed from his sway, she had reverted to her real self, the self Shannon had discovered in this new acquaintance with her. He began to feel sure of her; yet his natural caution, and the great issues which depended so much on him, compelled him to remain on his guard. If he had been helping her, as he firmly believed she thought, simply because she had appealed to him, it is certain that he would by then have cast all prejudices against her finally aside, and entered into his association with her eagerly and wholeheartedly.

  He left the Pincio and, walking along until he came to the famous Spanish stairs, glowing warmly yellow in the dying light, descended the hundred and thirty-seven to the Piazza di Spagna below. The flower-sellers had not yet left their stations, and the whole place looked a mass of blossoms. Here and there still lingered a few artists’ models, hopeful of obtaining employment for the morrow, the men conspicuous by thei
r picturesque hair and of course, the inevitable umbrellas. Shannon went on until he came to the Rome agency of the famous Parisian firm of Lalére et Cie, whose perfumes are world famous. It was beyond business hours, and most of the employees had departed, but the manager, an Englishman of the name of Tempest, was still on the premises. Shannon announced that he wished to see him about an order he had recently given, and sent in his name. Almost at once he was shown into the agent’s sanctum. A tall, keen-eyed man rose and greeted him.

  ‘What can I do for you, Shannon?’ he asked.

  The burly Secret Service man glanced round the cosy office.

  ‘Are we quite safe here?’ he asked.

  ‘Perfectly. This room, as I think you know, has been constructed with a main regard to my principal object in being in Rome. Have a cigarette?’

  ‘Thanks. Well, Tempest, old boy, I want a microphone, and extra long connections. And I want it before eleven tonight. Can do?’

  Tempest nodded.

  ‘Yes, I think I can manage that OK. What’s going on? Anything in my line?’

  Shannon grinned.

  ‘His eyes gleamed with the blood lust, he sniffed the air as though scenting battle from afar. That about describes you, my lad.’

  ‘Are you quoting from something?’ asked Tempest suspiciously.

  ‘Heaven forbid. I leave that sort of thing to Cousins. It sounds like a quotation, though, doesn’t it?’

  ‘It does. Last time Cousins was in here he spouted reams of quotations until my brain had become a kind of poetical cocktail, in which the chief ingredients were spirits of Shelley, essence of Keats, a few drops of Byron and Tennyson, and bitters of Pope.’

  Shannon laughed.

  ‘That’s about how the old lad makes me feel.’

  ‘Well, you haven’t told me,’ persisted Tempest. ‘Is there anything doing in my line?’

  ‘No, my boy; do you think I dare drag a respectable agent of Lalére et Cie into my sordid affairs? You supply the microphone, that’s your pidgin.’

  ‘I am growing fat and lazy running this show,’ complained the other. ‘I wish Sir Leonard would give me a chance to show my paces.’

  Shannon eyed his spare, lean form and chuckled.

  ‘I am glad you told me you were growing fat,’ he commented. ‘Concerning your second remark, it seems to me you’ve shown your paces often enough. You have one priceless gift which I wish I possessed; I mean your ability to lip-read. Perhaps I may need to make use of it before I’m through with this business. Listen, and I’ll put you wise.’

  He spoke earnestly for nearly half an hour, the interested Tempest listening without interruption; then Shannon rose to depart.

  ‘That’s that,’ he remarked finally. ‘If Hill and I disappear you’ll know where to direct whoever comes after us to commence investigations. How will you send along the microphone?’

  ‘In a box, well labelled,’ grinned Tempest. ‘Everyone will think you’re giving your best girl a specially large present. How is Mrs Shannon by the way?’

  ‘Fine. Well, cheer-ho, old son. Don’t forget – the Splendide, room one, two, four!’

  They shook hands, and Shannon walked out. Although the actual name of the firm of Lalére et Cie is slightly different, the great and prosperous business exists. Its headquarters is in Paris, from where it is directed by the genial Monsieur Lalére himself. It has branches or agencies in all the big capitals, and the managers and agents have their offices, attend to the business affairs which grow greater year by year, and draw their salaries. But it was originally founded by money supplied by Sir Leonard Wallace, and the ladies and gentlemen who represent it are members of the British Secret Service.

  A box, well pasted with labels, on which the name of Lalére et Cie stood out in bold letters, duly arrived at the Hotel Splendide addressed to Shannon. It was taken to him by a smart pageboy, who smiled knowingly as he handed it in. Inside was the microphone, carefully wrapped up, with connections, which the Secret Service man was satisfied were amply long for his purpose. A pair of headphones completed the equipment. At the bottom of the box was a large bottle of scent of a kind much favoured by his wife, with a card attached bearing Tempest’s name and the written message: ‘With compliments to Mrs Shannon.’ Hugh smiled at the thought which had prompted the gift.

  ‘Good old Tempest,’ he murmured, ‘bully for you. And now to wait for the witching hour.’

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Up a Chimney

  Thalia Ictinos returned home after her meeting with Shannon, and entered the main doors of the great elegant building in the Ludovisi quarter, quite unaware that Fate in the person of a blue eyed, boyish-looking man with fair hair and a jolly face was awaiting her there. She was walking towards the stairs, thinking it was hardly worthwhile going to the first floor in an elevator, when she heard hurried steps descending; looked up to see the immaculately-dressed man of whom she had thought more than once since the night before. He stopped two steps from the bottom; she stood where she was, and gradually a vivid blush stole up from her peerless neck until it had suffused her face. Hill’s heart gave a great bound within him. He did not know much about women, but surely, he thought, that blush meant something in the face of a girl who looked as though blushing were not a habit with her. He took off his hat, which had previously shaded his eyes, and Thalia recognised in them something that spoke directly to her heart, something that she could not mistake.

  ‘Signor!’ she faltered.

  ‘Signorina,’ he returned in unsteady, husky tones, ‘this is wonderful! It seems that we are fated to meet on stairs, though you are not actually standing on them. Ever since last night I have thought of you as “My lady of the stairs”.’

  ‘That is nice of you, signor,’ she replied, smiling gloriously at him.

  ‘It is nice of you,’ he corrected gently, ‘not to be angry with me for my presumption in daring to think of you under such a title.’

  ‘Why should I be angry?’ she asked. ‘Perhaps I, too, have thought with amusement of the manner in which you and I strove to pass, and could not.’

  ‘With amusement only?’ he queried, a note of reproach in his voice.

  ‘Were you not amused?’

  ‘I was angry with myself for my clumsiness. Yet, if I had not been clumsy, I should not have had the delight of hearing your voice.’ He came down the remaining steps; stood facing her. ‘The memory of it has remained with me ever since,’ he told her. ‘I think stairs will always be associated in my mind with what was a wonderful experience to me.’

  She laughed softly. The blush had gone now, leaving her satiny skin looking whiter, more alabaster-like than ever.

  ‘And now,’ she commented, ‘that experience has been nearly repeated, but perhaps it is not so wonderful this time.’

  ‘If possible, it is more wonderful,’ he breathed.

  ‘You have the trick of making compliments like an Italian,’ she remarked, ‘but I do not think you are an Italian. Am I not right?’

  ‘I am an Austrian, signorina. May I present myself? My name is Kirche – Raymond Kirche.’

  ‘I am very pleased to know you, Herr Kirche,’ came quickly from her in perfect German. ‘I am Thalia Ictinos, and I am of Greek blood.’ He bowed. A sudden light of understanding flashed into her eyes. ‘Are you the gentleman,’ she asked, ‘who has today taken the vacant flat on the second floor?’

  ‘I am, Fraulein.’

  ‘But how extraordinary it is. I – I mean,’ she added in dainty confusion, ‘it is strange, is it not? That last night we should meet on the stairs of the Hotel Splendide, and today you rent a flat in the building where I live.’

  Hill’s eyes were lowered. He hated himself for the lie he was about to tell her. Better that, however, for everybody’s sake, than that she should grow suspicious of him.

  ‘Signorina,’ he confessed, reverting to Italian, ‘I fear that there is much I am about to beg you to forgive. Perhaps you will not be able to find
it in your heart to forgive, but I should hate myself, if I were not honest with you.’

  How he wished he were in a position to be really honest with her! This second meeting had consolidated already the love he felt for her. At that moment he was in peril of risking all by a declaration from his heart of the whole truth. He mastered his inclinations with a great effort. His words had startled her a little. He looked up to find her great slate-blue eyes gazing at him with something approaching trepidation.

  ‘I do not understand,’ she murmured. ‘What can I have to forgive you, when you and I are strangers?’

  ‘Were strangers, signorina,’ he corrected. ‘I hope that that word can, after this, never be applied to us again. Last night I knew that I could not feel any peace unless I met you once more, at least. I took the unpardonable liberty of following you. I found that you lived here. This morning I went to the agent, and enquired about flats in this building. To my joy, I found there were several. I took the vacant one on the second floor. I wished so much to be near you. Signorina, I beg of you not to be angry with me because of my presumption. Will you forgive me, and grant me the great privilege of your friendship?’

  Thalia was thoroughly startled now; not only that, but he thought to see the shadow of fear in her eyes. Possibly, he reflected, she was worried at the idea that she had been thus followed from the Hotel Splendide, when she had taken precautions to avoid such a contingency. Also it was likely that she feared his coming would be misunderstood by her companions. If she had been honest with Shannon, she might anticipate that Hill would be regarded with suspicion by the people she had asserted she was watching, and any association with him bring danger on her. Whatever was in her thoughts, the startled look presently passed away, and she favoured him with one of her glorious smiles.

  ‘I suppose,’ she pronounced, ‘that I really should be very angry with you, but, as you have been so candid with me, I do not think I can be.’ He commenced to speak, but she raised a gloved hand with a little imperious gesture. ‘I am flattered, signor, that I should have made such an impression on you that you desired to be near me. Alas! I fear, however, that friendship between us is impossible.’