The Mind-­Twisters Affair - Stratton Thomas. Страница 26

Napoleon stared glumly at the wall in front of him. What else could he do? There had to be an extension of the passages somewhere, and apparently Jabez Whateley was the only one who knew where. In that case, there might be a clue to the secret in Whateley's study. Certainly it couldn't be anywhere else. In fact why couldn't the controls be in Whateley's study? The door controls had been modernized at some time, and all the secret doors he had found were operated by small electric motors controlled by hidden switches. A remote control in the study would make sense; any prowlers like himself could search the passageways to their heart's content without learning anything useful - as he had just done.

He got up from the step and moved quietly down the passage until he was once again outside Whateley's study. There was not a sound from the other side of the wall. He waited cautiously for several minutes until he was satisfied that Whateley had left the study, then operated the manual lever that controlled the secret door from the passageway side. He entered, ready with an explanation if Whateley should, against expectations, be inside. After all, Flavia had showed him an entrance to the passages; now that he was sure that this portion of them was innocuous, he doubted that Whateley would do anything drastic.

The precaution was needless; the study was empty. Napoleon discovered that he had entered the room from behind a section of bookcase which swung out. Another example of traditionalism, he noted. He care fully closed the door and swept the beam of his flashlight around the room. It contained a desk, chairs, the bookcases, what appeared to be the master control panel for Whateley's intercom system, and more of the morbid artwork. A well-worn but comfortable-looking couch stood in one corner.

Napoleon made for the desk, but before he could examine it he heard the sound of muffled footsteps. He started for the door, decided that the footsteps were probably coming from the hallway, and turned back to the room. As the footsteps grew louder, he climbed over the couch and dropped into the narrow space behind it. By now the footsteps were close, but he still couldn't be sure whether they came from the hallway or the secret passage.

There was a click and light spilled across the floor and fell on the couch. Napoleon realized with mounting excitement that it came from neither the hall nor the secret door that he had recently used, but from a different side of the room entirely. The footsteps entered the study. Peering around the end of the couch, Napoleon heard another click, and witnessed a section of wall swing shut. Closed, it appeared to be simply a section containing a large, built-in television screen.

Whoever had come through the wall didn't bother turn on lights in the study. He walked briskly to the desk, opened one of the drawers, and deposited an object inside. Then he left; Napoleon heard his retreating footsteps in the hall outside. They faded to silence.

Napoleon started breathing again and slowly pulled himself out from behind the couch. Deciding he might have very little time, he pulled out his flashlight and approached the desk. A quick search through the drawers revealed what he was after; a seemingly ordinary remote control unit for a TV set. He slid the desk drawers closed and walked over to the TV screen. Considering the haste with which Whateley had deposited the unit in the desk, Napoleon hoped be had not reset the controls.

He was right; the section of wall containing the TV screen swung out smoothly when he pressed the "on" button, and he just had time to drop the unit back in the desk drawer when he heard footsteps in the hall outside. A key rattled in the hallway door as Napoleon ran softly across the room and ducked through the opening. Once through, he reached back and tried to pull it shut. At first it jammed, and he began wondering if he should run and hope that Whateley would think he absent left the door open. But, as the hall door began to swing open, Napoleon's tugs achieved results and the section of wall closed silently. He rather doubted that it latched, for he didn't hear the distinctive click that had come when Whateley closed it, but it was just as well. With Whateley coming through the door, the click of the latch would have brought him into the passageway on the run.

Napoleon drew his U.N.C.L.E. Special and held it ready while he listened through the wall for sounds of Whateley's approach. The only sound, however, was that of the desk chair squeaking. After a minute of tense silence, Napoleon looked around. Unlike the other passages, this one was reasonably well lighted. A bare bulb hung from the ceiling, illuminating a stairway. Moving silently, Napoleon descended the stairs. At the basement level, the passage diverged, one branch going straight ahead, the other to his right. He started down the right-hand passage, keeping a careful watch for possible Thrushes. The passage grew dimmer as be left the illuminated junction, but it moved straight ahead until it abruptly ended in a blank wall. Napoleon put away his gun and was reaching for his flashlight when there was a clattering sound from the wall on his right.

He froze. The clattering and crashing continued. It sounded, he decided, like someone moving a pile of old lumber. He glanced at his watch. The Whateleys appeared to be a remarkably nocturnal clan. The clatter stopped, and he could hear someone moving around in the basement. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his flashlight; there was the clatter of something at his feet. Looking down, he saw the offending object; his com. It had apparently been snagged by the flashlight when he had pulled the latter out of his pocket.

He stood silently and there was an equal silence from the opposite side of the wall. Napoleon now saw a small door on the basement side of the passage, but there was no time to investigate it. Whoever was in the basement approached the wall. There was a faint scraping sound as though inquisitive hands were being moved over it. He picked up his communicator and moved away as quietly as he could.

As he reached the junction, he noticed that these passages were walled with different, newer material, unlike the passages in the house. There wasn't the musty odor of age that prevailed in the other passages, either. Presumably these had been added by the younger Jabez, probably with the help of Thrush. He wondered if Flavia knew about them or if she was as innocent as she appeared to be.

After a distance of about forty feet, the main passage changed into a hallway, with doors on each side. In the distance he could see an intersecting corridor. The second door off the hall was not only open, there was a light in the room. Cautiously, Napoleon approached the open door and listened. He could make out a hissing sound, but that was all. After a minute he risked a quick glance into the room.

A well-stocked chemical laboratory greeted his gaze. Cabinets filled with hundreds of bottled chemicals lined one wall, and racks of test tubes, flasks, ring stands, Bunsen burners and other lab equipment were in cabinets and on benches along the other two walls. On one of the benches, a half-full flask sat bubbling on a ring stand over the pointed blue flame of a Bunsen burner.

Napoleon quickly checked the hallway. No one was in sight. He stepped inside the lab and pulled out his communicator. In a whisper, he reported his find to Illya.

"Good work," Illya said. "I always told you that skillful skulking pays off. Do you think he's brewing another batch of the drug?"

"Probably, but I can't really tell. It's not lavender, but on the other hand, it isn't a powder, either. From what I overheard earlier, our destruction of the supply of drugs at the vending company has been reported. So the logical thing for him to do would be to brew up another batch as quickly as possible. If what happened to Armden when he was taken off the drug is typical, it would seem that dosage must be continuous."