Read Online Microbes of Power (Wallace of the Secret Service Series) by Alexander Wilson - Free Book Online Page A

house just before we passed – one was carrying a pot of paint too. Where did they go, Maddison? Did you notice?’
    That keen-eyed individual shook his head rather dejectedly.
    ‘I was too busy looking for – Damn it!’ he exclaimed vehemently. ‘Fancy being done like that.’
    ‘It’s no use standing here,’ grunted Brien. ‘Let us look for them!’
    It was hopeless, however, as from the start they knew it must be. They only had a vague idea of what the men were like, and it was certain they would quickly discard the white jackets and pot of paint they had so astutely purloined to help them in their escape. Brien, Maddison, and Foster each went in separate directions, but enquiries elicited no information, and eventually they were compelled to give up the search, and return to the house where Willingdon awaited them.
    ‘Lord!’ groaned Brien. ‘What mugs they have made us look!’
    ‘Damned clever to walk out under your noses like that, don’t you think, sir?’ asked the tactless Foster. ‘The joke was that neither you nor they knew what each other looked like.’
    ‘Your ideas and mine, Foster,’ returned Major Brien coldly, ‘donot coincide upon the point of what constitutes a joke.’ Foster looked suitably subdued. ‘I am going to return to headquarters, and tell Sir Leonard what has happened,’ went on the deputy to Maddison. ‘Take charge here until I return. You had better search the house and particularly the room from where those fellows escaped. They may have left something of interest behind them.’
    He quickly traversed the short distance to Whitehall, and went straight to Sir Leonard’s office. The latter gathered at once from his expression that all was not well.
    ‘Hullo, Bill!’ he exclaimed quietly. ‘Has something come unstuck?’
    ‘I should jolly well think it has,’ was the disgruntled reply. ‘I could kick myself.’
    He related the events that had taken place in Brook Street, culminating in the clever escape of Baltazzi and Padakis from the empty house.
    ‘Cute of them,’ was Sir Leonard’s comment at the conclusion of the recital. ‘It’s extraordinary,’ he went on, ‘how often the unexpected element looms up in our game, and spoils things. The presence of that empty house and the fact that it was being redecorated is one of those cursed chances that no one can anticipate. It was a marvellous bit of luck for Padakis and Baltazzi, but I admire their enterprise in grasping the opportunity.’
    ‘Well,’ grunted Brien, ‘aren’t you aching to kick me?’
    ‘Kick you? Good Lord, no! Why should I want to do that?’
    ‘Because I’ve made such a mess of the business.’
    ‘You haven’t made a mess of it. There’s no reason at all why you should blame yourself. If anybody is to blame, it is I.’
    ‘You!’ ejaculated Brien. ‘Why?’
    ‘I should have obtained a full description of Baltazzi and Padakisfor you to work on. If you had had it, I don’t think you would have allowed them to walk away like that.’
    ‘I daresay we should, at least I should.’ Brien was not disposed to spare himself. ‘Those white jackets and the pot of paint did me completely. I don’t think I even glanced at the faces of the men wearing them.’
    ‘Oh, well, it can’t be helped. We’ll get a description and circulate it, but I doubt if we’ll get them. The pity of it is that they’ll warn Plasiras and Bikelas, and show that we are, after all, taking a very active interest in their affairs. I’ll come along with you, and have a chat with the lady.’
    They returned together to Brook Street in Brien’s Vauxhall. The average Londoner has an amazing flair for scenting out anything of a sensational nature. An apparently empty street will fill like magic, if an accident or a quarrel or some equally exciting event is staged in it. Brook Street had quickly discovered that something out of the ordinary was taking place in Number Seventy-Two. Of course, a good many people had