The Mystery of Tunnel 51 (Wallace of the Secret Service Series) Read online

  It is doubtful whether there could have been a greater friendship than that existing between the two men. They had known each other since early boyhood, and had always been inseparable. Each understood the other perfectly. Marriage had made no difference, but rather had caused a friendship between their wives which had become almost as great as theirs. Billy had an unbounded admiration for his brilliant chief, and was never happier than when he was helping him to unravel some knotty problem of Secret Service work. Their years of close association had made, not lessened, Brien’s continual amazement at Leonard’s extraordinary astuteness, his almost weird powers of deduction and his utter nonchalance in all situations. Wallace, on the other hand, admired the solid worth of his chum; his keen grasp of detail, and above all the bulldog courage which made him cling on tenaciously to any task on which he had set his mind. They fitted into each other like a jigsaw puzzle, and it had been the same all through their lives.

  One of the first things Brien had done on arriving in Davis Road was to order Abdul, the detective, to cut the telephone wires connected to Silverman’s bungalow. It occurred to him that if Silverman or, to give him his correct name, Levinsky, was in the house, he could not then be warned of the raid, while on the other hand, if he did find out, it would prevent or at least delay his warning others.

  Billy had smoked his second pipe, and was about to knock the ashes out, when a car, with great gleaming headlights, ran into the drive across the way, and stopped in front of the bungalow. Immediately came three flashes from an electric torch, and he sat up, alert and eager. This was the signal he had been waiting for. Abdul glided up.

  ‘It is Silverman sahib!’ he whispered in his quaint English. ‘Anodder man are with him, and waiting in motor. It looks they are not stopping here!’

  ‘Where are the other detectives?’ questioned Billy.

  ‘Hakim hiding by house, sahib; Juggat Lal here.’

  The latter appeared apparently from nowhere, and grinned. Billy got out of the tonneau, and sat by the driver.

  ‘You stop here, Abdul, and wait for Wallace sahib and the Commissioner sahib. I’ll take Hakim and Juggat Lal with me. Tell your chief and my chief that as soon as I have news, I will leave Hakim or Juggat Lal behind to telephone to the Commissioner’s house. Do you understand? What is the telephone number?’

  Abdul told him. At that moment the car opposite was away again, and turning into the main road, tore in the direction of the Cantonments.

  ‘Get in, Juggat Lal!’ ordered Brien.

  A moment later Hakim ran up, and was directed to take his place by his companion’s side. Then the great car started, and was soon in full cry after the other, with dimmed headlights.

  On through the night they raced. Levinsky had a good start, and was already some distance away, but the powerful Buick was gradually eating up the space between. The driver, a bearded Sikh policeman, crouched over the wheel, with his foot pressed down hard on the accelerator, and his eyes glued ahead at the ray of light that indicated their quarry’s position.

  Soon they were on the Mall with its beautifully macadamised surface, and the car hummed with all the freedom of a perfectly-running engine. Presently the lights of the Cantonments came into view, were passed, and left behind, almost as though they were merely the chimera of a distorted imagination. It was unlikely that Levinsky had as yet discovered that he was being chased, but Brien, expecting that every moment he would find out, urged his driver on to greater efforts, not knowing what speed the other car might be capable of.

  Half an hour went by, and they were right out in the country, while the distance between the two machines had decreased to a matter of thirty yards or so. It was not till then that the occupants of the other car in front discovered another close behind them. Levinsky stood up and looked back – Billy could just discern him gazing over the hood. Then he sat down, and a little while afterwards the motor ahead began to draw gradually away.

  ‘By Jove! He can move,’ growled Brien to himself, and then ordered the lights to be switched on to their fullest extent, deciding that it was useless to attempt to cloak their purpose any longer.

  A great beam of light shone out and brought Levinsky’s car into bold relief. Then commenced a desperate chase. At times the distance between seemed to be lessening, at others it was undoubtedly widening, and on they went, through village after village, past farmhouses and sleeping caravans, swerving round bullock carts and other vehicles that travelled by night. Brien fingered the revolver in his pocket, and watched the other car with a steadfast, almost unblinking gaze waiting for the slightest movement of aggression on the part of Levinsky or his companion. It did not come for a long time, the Russian probably not being as yet certain that the people following him were actually after him for any other purpose than in an effort to race him.

  They passed through Montgomery still at the same reckless tearing pace, and were once more out in the open with no company but the stars in the canopy of the sky overhead, a few trees on either side of the road, and for miles round the flat expanse of sandy waste which indicated the proximity of the Sind desert. Billy leant back and spoke to the detectives.

  ‘What was the name of that town?’ he asked.

  Juggat Lal showed a line of white teeth in a broad smile, but made no reply. Apparently he had no English; but Hakim understood and answered.

  ‘That Montgomery, sahib,’ he said.

  ‘Where does this road go to?’

  It took the detective some time to frame his reply; then:

  ‘Him going Karachi, sahib!’

  Billy whistled softly to himself. So Levinsky was heading for Karachi! At least it appeared so. ‘Then,’ thought Brien, ‘it is very likely that he has had news of the raid and is making a desperate attempt to get to the seaport town with the plans.’ The Secret Service man leant back in his seat with satisfaction. Lahore is over eight hundred miles from Karachi, he was close behind the Russian, and it was inconceivable that the latter could get away from him, especially as he had all the forces of law and order on his side and could call on their aid if necessary. Besides Levinsky was bound to stop before long for petrol, if for no other reason.

  Apparently Levinsky thought the same for, of a sudden, he stood up and looked back, and casting all pretence and caution to the winds, raised a revolver and fired. But the brilliant lights of the car blinded him and his shot was a very sorry attempt. He disappeared from view again, but a moment later reappeared wearing a pair of sun goggles. This time his shot was better aimed and the bullet splintered the windscreen. Both Brien and the driver were covered with fragments of glass, but, except for a cut or two, escaped injury.

  ‘This won’t do,’ muttered Billy, and standing up he took deliberate aim and fired. Levinsky got a fright and a flesh wound in the left shoulder at the same time, and bobbed out of sight immediately. There was intermittent firing for some time after this, but the Russian was at a disadvantage. In order to take aim he was compelled to show himself, and every time he did so, a bullet from Brien passed uncomfortably close to him. Then he tried shooting with his revolver resting on the folded hood and trusting to luck that a shot might take effect, but the bullets either went too high or too low, although one occasionally came very close. At last he gave up shooting altogether, and apparently contented himself with bestirring his driver to greater efforts, for the car drew away an appreciable distance.

  ‘He must carry a lot of petrol,’ muttered Billy. ‘I’ll put a bullet through his tank presently.’ He leant back to Hakim.

  ‘What is the next town or village?’ he asked.

  ‘Next town, sahib.’ The detective thought a moment. ‘Khanewal,’ he added triumphantly.

  ‘We’ll slow down there, and Juggat Lal must jump off and ring up the Commissioner’s house at Lahore, and tell him where we are and in which direction we are going. Do you understand?’

  ‘Understanding, sahib!’ replied Hakim, and conveyed the instructions to his companion.
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br />   At one-thirty they reached Khanewal and, slowing down to fifteen miles an hour, Juggat Lai jumped off, and disappeared in the darkness. They immediately picked up speed again, but the delay, short as it had been, had enabled the other car to get quite a long distance ahead, a distance that it might take hours to make up. They lost sight of it for a few minutes, too, and taking one of two roads, Billy feared for a little while that his quarry had taken the other, which he found out afterwards led to Multan, but to his relief, as they turned a corner and came out into the open again, he could just discern the other car in the distance.

  The Sikh set himself to make up the difference, and they tore onward, the finger on the dial of the speedometer registering sixty-four miles an hour for some time. Just after half past two they got within appreciable striking distance once more, and raced through Lodhran on the tail of Levinsky’s car. Here both machines had to negotiate a road that was under repairs and Levinsky got a little farther on, but half an hour later at Samasata there could only have been four or five yards separating the two motors. Then, instead of going straight on, the Russian dived into a series of side streets, and swung round corners so suddenly that in following him the other car all but collided with houses and various other obstacles. The Sikh showed amazing skill, bringing the car round on two wheels, almost in its own length, and avoiding accidents by a hair’s breadth on numerous occasions. At one corner, however, they skidded badly, and some time was lost before they were once more on the tail of their victim, which had now run into the open road once more and continued on its headlong way.

  ‘I’m fed up with this,’ muttered Billy, and urged the driver to catch up the other fellow at all costs. Mile after mile was traversed and, at last, just as they were approaching Dera Nawab they were within ten yards once more. Then standing up Brien took careful aim, and put two bullets into the petrol tank of the other car.

  Not satisfied with that he fired at the tyres and with his third shot there came an explosion; the car wobbled dangerously, and lurching across the road turned completely over in a ditch. Brien’s driver avoided a collision by another display of skill, and drew up a little farther on. Billy and Hakim immediately jumped out and ran back, both of them holding revolvers at the ready. But they met with no opposition. They found the driver lying unconscious quite ten yards away, but of Levinsky and the man who had been with him there was no sign.

  With the headlights of his own car shining full on the wreck, Brien searched for the bodies of the two men, but all to no purpose. They had disappeared as completely as though the earth had swallowed them. He sat down in the ditch and groaned.

  ‘What a fool I am!’ he said. ‘Now I know why they led us that dance round all the side streets.’

  He got up presently, and examined the driver of Levinsky’s car, who appeared to be very badly injured.

  ‘We can’t leave the poor beggar here,’ he said to Hakim, ‘and as we are going back to that last town, we’d better take him with us.’

  With the help of their chauffeur they got him into the car, and drove back to Samasata. Brien sent Hakim to watch the station, first having made enquiries about the whereabouts of the residence of the Superintendent of police.

  It was a quarter to four when the car drew up in front of the Superintendent’s bungalow, and Billy sent the chowkidar to find his master. The latter appeared, after a delay of five minutes, in a dressing gown and a vile temper. As soon as he saw the other he demanded in unmistakable tones to know why he had been disturbed, but his manner soon changed when Brien informed him who he was and showed him his authority.

  ‘Come inside, Major!’ he said. ‘And forgive me for being a trifle brusque!’

  Billy smiled, and followed him into a small office. He gave him an account of his night’s adventures, and described how he had been fooled. The other listened to him in amazement.

  ‘What do you want me to do?’ he asked at the end of the recital.

  ‘Have the whole place searched as far as possible for Levinsky!’ He gave a rapid description of the Russian, which the other noted down. ‘I don’t know who his companion was,’ he added, ‘and I don’t suppose he matters much, but Levinsky must be caught.’

  ‘It shouldn’t be difficult,’ replied the Superintendent, ‘there are only half a dozen Europeans here, and a big fellow would be more conspicuous than ever.’

  Billy smiled grimly, but made no reply. The Superintendent immediately got on the phone to police headquarters and gave the necessary orders.

  ‘Now will you get me through to the Deputy Commissioner’s house at Lahore?’ asked Brien when the other had finished.

  In ten minutes the connection was made, and Billy heard Rainer’s voice at the other end of the wire.

  ‘This is Brien speaking,’ he said. ‘Is Sir Leonard there?’

  ‘Yes. You’ve just caught him. Hold the line!’

  ‘Hullo, Billy!’ said Wallace’s voice, almost at once. ‘I was just going. Have you got your man?’

  ‘No, he’s given me the slip!’ And Brien described how Levinsky had escaped him.

  When he had finished:

  ‘Bad luck!’ said Leonard. ‘Where are you now?’

  ‘At Samasata.’

  ‘Well, look here, I’m just off to the Cantonments, and as soon as it is daylight I’ll come to you in the aeroplane. If in the meantime you pick up the trail follow it through, and leave a message for me.’

  ‘Right ho! Did you get my previous message?’

  ‘Yes, thanks. I decided to follow you as soon as I knew the direction you had taken. Levinsky has got the original plans with him, so he must not be allowed to get away.’

  ‘I could kick myself for letting him slip me.’

  ‘You couldn’t help it. It was a jolly clever ruse on his part. I would have been done just the same. Cheerio!’

  Billy hung up the receiver with a feeling of gratitude to his friend. But would he have been done just the same, he wondered, and decided that Wallace’s quick mind would have seen through the trick at once. He drove off to the station, leaving the damaged driver with the Superintendent, who rang up for an ambulance. On enquiry Brien had found out that the mail train from Karachi had already gone through, but that a passenger train was due to leave for the same destination at five o’clock.

  He found Hakim shivering on the cold, draughty platform, and was informed that nobody answering to Levinsky’s description had put in an appearance. Billy hid in a waiting-room and waited for the Karachi train to come in. It seemed to him his only hope that Levinsky would elect to travel by that train, but as the minutes passed he was filled with doubt, and he could hardly bear the suspense of waiting. Then, an idea occurring to him, he went to the stationmaster’s office, and borrowed the telephone. He rang up the only three garages in the town in turn, and after some time got through to each. He asked if a car had been hired recently and received a reply in the negative in every case – a railway clerk very obligingly doing the actual talking for him. The knowledge that Levinsky had not hired a car cheered him very little. There were many other ways of obtaining one, and it seemed extremely doubtful that the Russian, knowing that he was being sought, would risk detection by appearing on a station platform and going by train. Billy sighed for Leonard’s acumen and his uncanny ability to put himself in the place of others and think as they thought. He went through every means of escape for Levinsky he could think of, but quite failed to find any satisfactory idea that might help him.

  He strolled back to the waiting-room, and idly stopped to watch some natives who were apparently having an argument on the up-platform. Standing by them was a tall burly Pathan, who appeared to be rather amused at the storm of chatter and invective that was going on at his side. There seemed to be something familiar about this fellow, but for the life of him Billy could not remember having seen him before. He was a fine figure of a man, with long hair hanging below his turban, and a large moustache and straggling beard, which had been dyed a de
ep red colour.

  ‘What a disguise that would be for Levinsky!’ Billy murmured. ‘The red beard would have been the sort of master touch Levinsky would have delighted in.’

  Then with what, he declared afterwards, was the most brilliant flash of inspiration that had ever come to him in his life, there came recognition; he felt that he could almost see beneath the beard, beyond the dark colouring of the man on the opposite platform. What gave him this feeling he could never tell. But he was absolutely certain in his own mind that this was Levinsky himself.

  What was to be done! He could not go across and apprehend a man simply because he thought he was Levinsky in disguise. The fellow might turn out to be a perfectly harmless native. But with the thought firmly fixed in his mind that this was in truth the Russian spy, Billy dared not let him out of his sight. He hurried back to the stationmaster’s office, speaking to Hakim on the way and directing him to watch the Pathan.

  ‘What train are those people on the other platform waiting for?’ he asked the clerk, who had already proved himself so obliging.

  ‘Most of them for number sixty-five, sare; the slow train for Bhatinda and Delhi.’

  ‘Is it due now?’

  ‘It is overdue by twenty minutes!’

  ‘Thanks!’

  Returning to Hakim, Billy instructed the latter to hurry across to the other side, to take a ticket for Bhatinda and get into the same carriage as the Pathan, and watch his every movement.

  ‘I must not go by the train myself,’ he added, ‘as I should be recognised, but I’ll follow in the car, and I’ll get to every station before you. I’ll remain in hiding, but shall be watching carefully and, if he still retains his seat, wave a cloth gently out of the window and I’ll know. If he gets out make no sign to me, but follow him. Do you understand?’