Criminals -- Fiction; Detective and mystery stories; Fu Manchu, Doctor (Fictitious character) -- Fiction
We began methodically to go through the long list of names which we had
compiled and to review our elaborate notes. When, at last, I turned
in, the night had given place to a new day. But sleep evaded me, and
"ANDAMAN--SECOND" danced like a mocking phantom through my brain.
Then I heard the telephone bell. I heard Smith speaking.
A minute afterwards he was in my room, his face very grim.
"I knew as well as if I'd seen it with my own eyes that some black
business was afoot last night," he said. "And it was. Within
pistol-shot of us! Someone has got at Frank Norris West. Inspector
Weymouth has just been on the 'phone."
"Norris West!" I cried, "the American aviator--and inventor--"
"Of the West aero-torpedo--yes. He's been offering it to the English
War Office, and they have delayed too long."
I got out of bed.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that the potentialities have attracted the attention of Dr.
Fu-Manchu!"
Those words operated electrically. I do not know how long I was in
dressing, how long a time elapsed ere the cab for which Smith had
'phoned arrived, how many precious minutes were lost upon the journey;
but, in a nervous whirl, these things slipped into the past, like the
telegraph poles seen from the window of an express, and, still in that
tense state, we came upon the scene of this newest outrage.
Mr. Norris West, whose lean, stoic face had latterly figured so often
in the daily press, lay upon the floor in the little entrance hall of
his chambers, flat upon his back, with the telephone receiver in his
hand.
The outer door had been forced by the police. They had had to remove a
piece of the paneling to get at the bolt. A medical man was leaning
over the recumbent figure in the striped pajama suit, and
Detective-Inspector Weymouth stood watching him as Smith and I entered.
"He has been heavily drugged," said the Doctor, sniffing at West's
lips, "but I cannot say what drug has been used. It isn't chloroform
or anything of that nature. He can safely be left to sleep it off, I
think."
I agreed, after a brief examination.
"It's most extraordinary," said Weymouth. "He rang up the Yard about
an hour ago and said his chambers had been invaded by Chinamen. Then
the man at the 'phone plainly heard him fall. When we got here his
front door was bolted, as you've seen, and the windows are three floors
up. Nothing is disturbed."
"The plans of the aero-torpedo?" rapped Smith.
"I take it they are in the safe in his bedroom," replied the detective,
"and that is locked all right. I think he must have taken an overdose
of something and had illusions. But in case there was anything in what
he mumbled (you could hardly understand him) I thought it as well to
send for you."
"Quite right," said Smith rapidly. His eyes shone like steel. "Lay
him on the bed, Inspector."
It was done, and my friend walked into the bedroom.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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