Wallace at Bay Read Online Free PDF Page B

all part of one small piece of paper, and he proceeded to put them together. It was an unpleasant job, as they were sticky and very dirty. However, he persevered. Presently he had succeeded in arranging the whole in one piece, and on it, to his delight, he found a message. It was written in German, and he quickly translated it to read:
    Have brought instructions. Take room Canute Hotel, Waterloo Road, Wednesday night. Do not fail. Send S or H if you cannot come. Must return next day.
    M
    Carter gave vent to a grunt of satisfaction. The reason why Pestalozzi had taken a room in the Canute Hotel for one nightwas now explained. Somebody had met him there, and had given him certain instructions which, it was to be presumed, had been conveyed from the headquarters of the anarchists in Vienna. Who was ‘M’? However, the identity of the messenger did not matter very much, as he had probably already returned whence he came. Carter had evidence now that Haeckel as well as Zanazaryk was with Pestalozzi, for the letter ‘H’ in the note could hardly refer to anybody else.
    He copied the message into his notebook; then, replacing the scraps of paper on the sweet – a most distasteful task – replaced the messy lump in the pocket from which he had taken it. The coat was put back on the chair exactly as it had lain before. Carter had learnt, during his career, that to pay attention to the smallest details was a very necessary policy in the work of an agent of the Secret Service. He wiped his hands on his handkerchief until they no longer felt sticky; then continued his investigations. A folded map of the routes of London of the type issued by the London Transport Company lay on the mantelpiece, but he took no notice of it until he had completed his survey of the room and had found nothing further of interest. He picked it up casually and opened it. The next moment he gave an exclamation, spread it out on the table, and was studying it. On it a thin red line was traced from Victoria Station, along Victoria Street, across Parliament Square, thence up Whitehall, along the Mall by way of the Admiralty Arch to Buckingham Palace. It was the route King Peter would take on his arrival in London. A large red cross marked the spot about where the Cenotaph stood. It was expected that the king would place a wreath at the base of the memorial. Was it there that the anarchists had decided to assassinate him? Carter had littledoubt of it. He carefully followed the route to make certain there were no other crosses.
    He was thus engaged when he heard faintly the whistled notes of the tune British Secret Service men used as a warning to each other. At once, he folded up the map, replaced it on the mantelshelf and, darting across the room, switched off the light. A moment later he had run quietly down the stairs, had opened the front door, and was looking out. Cartright came by as he was about to close the door behind him, caught sight of him, and paused for a moment in his whistling.
    ‘Back and hide,’ came the low warning, barely reaching Carter’s ears. ‘Close behind!’ And Cartright passed on, whistling louder than ever.
    The lips of his colleague came together grimly, but he did not hesitate. Backing into the hall, he gently closed the door. He regretted now that he was not armed, but he smiled as he reflected that he knew where he would be able to obtain a weapon, if it became necessary and he was able to reach it in time. Where was he to hide? He knew nothing of the bootblack’s flat. If he entered any of his rooms, the possibility was that he would find nothing in them behind which he could conceal himself; there was certainly no hiding place in either of the rooms above. He heard the sound of voices and footsteps outside; immediately ran back up the stairs; had reached the next floor as the door opened. It was his intention to ascend the next flight which led to an attic. As far as he knew the latter was unoccupied. There he hoped to