The Triangle menace was festering to a head, and for all the lightness of his tone he knew it. It was the season for striking swift blows, here, there, and everywhere. From then onwards the gang must be attacked and raided wherever and whenever the dimmest spook of half an opportunity showed its tail. The risk of lowering police prestige still further by giving the Triangle the chance to make yet another daring coup must be taken. The Triangle must be set on the run, and kept there--hazed, harassed and bulldozed into confusion, till they didn't know whether they were coming or going. Storm telephoned the prison and ordered a van with double escort to be sent immediately. It would take some time to arrive, and he followed the order with a call to Vine Street asking for a dozen men to guard the prisoners meantime. He had seen the microphone attached to the loud speaker. Already the Big Triangle knew of his presence, and he did not put it above the capabilities of that stupendous brain to organise a lightning sortie to rescue their captives before a conveyance could reach Cornwall House. "Put your hands high over your heads and face along that wall," he commanded the prisoners, and they obeyed without demur. Their position did not seem to trouble them at all, and this earnest of their confidence in the Apex was somewhat disquieting. Storm and the detective watched them, cat-eyed, until the men from Vine Street arrived. Then the captives were searched, and Storm sat down to smoke a cigarette while he waited for the prison van. It came surprisingly quickly. The prisoners were rushed down the stairs into the street, loaded into the Maria, and three of the Vine Street plain-clothes men crammed in on top of them to reinforce the warders. All the captives were handcuffed together in a string and the end handcuffs were locked over staples on the inside of the van. "They'll be blistering miracles if they get out of that mess!" said Storm, watching the red tail-light speed down Piccadilly. After that the other detectives were dismissed, and Storm and Teal returned to make a more thorough search of the inner flat. They stopped en route to look over the assembly room, and it was while they were there that Storm distinctly heard the sound of a door closing in the next flat. Teal's ears intercepted the dull click at the same time, and the two jumped for the partition door. The sitting-room was empty, but in that cursory glance round Storm saw that the headpieces and transmitter he had left on a chair had vanished. He jerked open the bedroom door and ran through into the bathroom, but there was no one to be seen. And then a second door slammed, and he whipped round with a frown. Almost at once he grasped his mistake. "Je-rusalem--the hall!" he snapped, and led the way back through the sitting-room.