The Poisoned Pen(Fiscle Part-3) - Arthur B. Reeve (best detective novels of all time TXT) 📗

The Same Result.

 

In His Latest Book On The Origin Of Life Dr. Charlton Bastian

Tells Of Using Two Solutions. One Consisted Of Two Or Three Drops

Of Dilute Sodium Silicate With Eight Drops Of Liquor Ferri

Pernitratis To One Ounce Of Distilled Water. The Other Was

Composed Of The Same Amount Of The Silicate With Six Drops Of

Dilute Phosphoric Acid And Six Grains Of Ammonium Phosphate. He

Filled Sterilised Tubes,  Sealed Them Hermetically,  And Heated Them

To 125 Or 145 Degrees,  Centigrade,  Although 60 Or 70 Degrees Would

Have Killed Any Bacteria Remaining In Them.

 

Next He Exposed Them To Sunlight In A South Window For From Two To

Four Months. When The Tubes Were Opened Dr. Bastian Found

Organisms In Them Which Differed In No Way From Real Bacteria.

They Grew And Multiplied. He Contends That He Has Proved The

Possibility Of Spontaneous Generation Of Life.

 

Then There Were The Experiments Of John Butler Burke Of Cambridge,

Who Claimed That He Had Developed "Radiobes" In Tubes Of

Sterilised Bouillon By Means Of Radium Emanations. Daniel

Berthelot In France Last Year Announced That He Had Used The

Ultra-Violet Rays To Duplicate Nature's Own Process Of Chlorophyll

Assimilation. He Has Broken Up Carbon Dioxide And Water-Vapour In

The Air In Precisely The Same Way That The Green Cells Of Plants

Do It.

 

Leduc At Nantes Has Made Crystals Grow From An Artificial "Egg"

Composed Of Certain Chemicals. These Crystals Show All The

Apparent Vital Phenomena Without Being Actually Alive. His Work Is

Interesting,  For It Shows The Physical Forces That Probably

Control Minute Life Cells,  Once They Are Created.

 

"What Do You Make Of It?" Asked Kennedy,  Noting The Puzzled Look

On My Face As I Finished Reading.

 

"Well,  Recent Research In The Problem Of The Origin Of Life May Be

Very Interesting," I Replied. "There Are A Good Many Chemicals

Mentioned Here--I Wonder If Any Of Them Is Poisonous? But I Am Of

The Opinion That There Is Something More To This Manuscript Than A

Mere Scientific Paper."

 

"Exactly,  Walter," Said Kennedy In Half Raillery. "What I Wanted

To Know Was How You Would Suggest Getting At That Something."

 

Study As I Might,  I Could Make Nothing Out Of It. Meanwhile Craig

Was Busily Figuring With A Piece Of Paper And A Pencil.

 

"I Give It Up,  Craig," I Said At Last. "It Is Late. Perhaps We Had

Better Both Turn In,  And We May Have Some Ideas On It In The

Morning."

Part 3 Chapter 3 (The Germ Of Death) Pg 27

For Answer He Merely Shook His Head And Continued To Scribble And

Figure On The Paper. With A Reluctant Good-Night I Shut My Door,

Determined To Be Up Early In The Morning And Go For The Tubes That

Kharkoff Was To Prepare.

 

But In The Morning Kennedy Was Gone. I Dressed Hastily,  And Was

Just About To Go Out When He Hurried In,  Showing Plainly The

Effects Of Having Spent A Sleepless Night. He Flung An Early

Edition Of A Newspaper On The Table.

 

"Too Late," He Exclaimed. "I Tried To Reach Kharkoff,  But It Was

Too Late."

 

"Another East Side Bomb Outrage," I Read. "While Returning At A

Late Hour Last Night From A Patient,  Dr. Nicholas Kharkoff,  Of--

East Broadway,  Was Severely Injured By A Bomb Which Had Been

Placed In His Hallway Earlier In The Evening. Dr. Kharkoff,  Who Is

A Well-Known Physician On The East Side,  States That He Has Been

Constantly Shadowed By Some One Unknown For The Past Week Or Two.

He Attributes His Escape With His Life To The Fact That Since He

Was Shadowed He Has Observed Extreme Caution. Yesterday His Cook

Was Poisoned And Is Now Dangerously Ill. Dr. Kharkoff Stands High

In The Russian Community,  And It Is Thought By The Police That The

Bomb Was Placed By A Russian Political Agent,  As Kharkoff Has Been

Active In The Ranks Of The Revolutionists."

 

"But What Made You Anticipate It?" I Asked Of Kennedy,

Considerably Mystified.

 

"The Manuscript," He Replied.

 

"The Manuscript? How? Where Is It?"

 

"After I Found That It Was Too Late To Save Kharkoff And That He

Was Well Cared For At The Hospital,  I Hurried To Saratovsky's.

Kharkoff Had Fortunately Left The Tubes There,  And I Got Them.

Here They Are. As For The Manuscript In The Letter,  I Was Going To

Ask You To Slip Upstairs By Some Strategy And Return It Where I

Found It,  When You Went For The Tubes This Morning. Kazanovitch

Was Out,  And I Have Returned It Myself,  So You Need Not Go,  Now."

 

"He's Coming To See You Today,  Isn't He?"

 

"I Hope So. I Left A Note Asking Him To Bring Miss Nevsky,  If

Possible,  Too. Come,  Let Us Breakfast And Go Over To The

Laboratory. They May Arrive At Any Moment. Besides,  I'm Interested

To See What The Tubes Disclose."

 

Instead Of Kazanovitch Awaiting Us At The Laboratory,  However,  We

Found Miss Nevsky,  Haggard And Worn. She Was A Tall,  Striking Girl

With More Of The Gaul Than The Slav In Her Appearance. There Was A

Slightly Sensuous Curve To Her Mouth,  But On The Whole Her Face

Was Striking And Intellectual. I Felt That If She Chose She Could

Fascinate A Man So That He Would Dare Anything. I Never Before

Understood Why The Russian Police Feared The Women Revolutionists

So Much. It Was Because They Were Themselves,  Plus Every Man They

Could Influence.

 

Nevsky Appeared Very Excited. She Talked Rapidly,  And Fire Flashed

From Her Grey Eyes. "They Tell Me At The Club," She Began,  "That

You Are Investigating The Terrible Things That Are Happening To

Us. Oh,  Professor Kennedy,  It Is Awful! Last Night I Was Staying

With Some Friends On East Broadway. Suddenly We Heard A Terrific

Explosion Up The Street. It Was In Front Of Dr. Kharkoff's House.

Thank Heaven,  He Is Still Alive I But I Was So Unnerved I Could

Not Sleep. I Fancied I Might Be The Next To Go.

 

"Early This Morning I Hastened To Return To Fifth Avenue. As I

Entered The Door Of My Room I Could Not Help Thinking Of The

Horrible Fate Of Dr. Kharkoff. For Some Unknown Reason,  Just As I

Was About To Push The Door Farther Open,  I Hesitated And Looked--I

Almost Fainted. There Stood Another Bomb Just Inside. If I Had

Moved The Door A Fraction Of An Inch It Would Have Exploded. I

Screamed,  And Olga,  Sick As She Was,  Ran To My Assistance--Or

Perhaps She Thought Something Had Happened To Boris. It Is

Standing There Yet. None Of Us Dares Touch It. Oh,  Professor

Kennedy,  It Is Dreadful,  Dreadful. And I Cannot Find Boris--Mr.

Kazanovitch,  I Mean. Saratovsky,  Who Is Like A Father To Us All,

Is Scarcely Able To Speak. Dr. Kharkoff Is Helpless In The

Hospital. Oh,  What Are We To Do,  What Are We To Do?"

 

She Stood Trembling Before Us,  Imploring.

 

"Calm Yourself,  Miss Nevsky," Said Kennedy In A Reassuring Tone.

"Sit Down And Let Us Plan. I Take It That It Was A Chemical Bomb

And Not One With A Fuse,  Or You Would Have A Different Story To

Tell. First Of All,  We Must Remove It. That Is Easily Done."

 

He Called Up A Near-By Garage And Ordered An Automobile. "I Will

Drive It Myself," He Ordered,  "Only Send A Man Around With It

Immediately."

 

"No,  No,  No," She Cried,  Running Toward Him,  "You Must Not Risk

It. It Is Bad Enough That We Should Risk Our Lives. But Strangers

Must Not. Think,  Professor Kennedy. Suppose The Bomb Should

Explode At A Touch! Had We Not Better Call The Police And Let Them

Take The Risk,  Even If It Does Get Into The Papers?"

 

"No," Replied Kennedy Firmly. "Miss Nevsky,  I Am Quite Willing To

Take The Risk. Besides,  Here Comes The Automobile."

 

"You Are Too Kind," She Exclaimed. "Kazanovitch Himself Could Do

No More. How Am I Ever To Thank You?"

 

On The Back Of The Automobile Kennedy Placed A Peculiar Oblong

Box,  Swung On Two Concentric Rings Balanced On Pivots,  Like A Most

Delicate Compass.

 

We Rode Quickly Downtown,  And Kennedy Hurried Into The House,

Bidding Us Stand Back. With A Long Pair Of Tongs He Seized The

Bomb Firmly. It Was A Tense Moment. Suppose His Hand Should

Unnecessarily Tremble,  Or He Should Tip It Just A Bit--It Might

Explode And Blow Him To Atoms. Keeping It Perfectly Horizontal He

Carried It Carefully Out To The Waiting Automobile And Placed It

Gingerly In The Box.

 

"Wouldn't It Be A Good Thing To Fill The Box With Water?" I

Suggested,  Having Read Somewhere That That Was The Usual Way Of

Opening A Bomb,  Under Water.

 

"No," He Replied,  As He Closed The Lid,  "That Wouldn't Do Any Good

With A Bomb Of This Sort. It Would Explode Under Water Just As

Well As In Air. This Is A Safety Bomb-Carrier. It Is Known As The

Cardan Suspension. It Was Invented By Professor Cardono,  An

Italian. You See,  It Is Always Held In A Perfectly Horizontal

Position,  No Matter How You Jar It. I Am Now Going To Take The

Bomb To Some Safe And Convenient Place Where I Can Examine It At

My Leisure. Meanwhile,  Miss Nevsky,  I Will Leave You In Charge Of

Mr. Jameson."

 

"Thank You So Much," She Said. "I Feel Better Now. I Didn't Dare

Go Into My Own Room With That Bomb At The Door. If Mr. Jameson Can

Only Find Out What Has Become Of Mr. Kazanovitch,  That Is All I

Want. What Do You Suppose Has Happened To Him? Is He,  Too,  Hurt Or

Ill?"

 

"Very Well,  Then," Craig Replied. "I Will Commission You,  Walter,

To Find Kazanovitch. I Shall Be Back Again Shortly Before Noon To

Examine The Wreck Of Kharkoff's Office. Meet Me There. Goodbye,

Miss Nevsky."

Part 3 Chapter 3 (The Germ Of Death) Pg 28

 

It Was Not The First Time That I Had Had A Roving Commission To

Find Some One Who Had Disappeared In New York. I Started By

Inquiring For Every Possible Place That He Might Be Found. No One

At The Fifth Avenue House Could Tell Me Anything Definite,  Though

They Were Able To Give Me A Number Of Places Where He Was Known. I

Consumed Practically The Whole Morning Going From One Place To

Another On The East Side. Some Of The Picturesque Haunts Of The

Revolutionists Would Have Furnished Material For A Story In

Themselves. But Nowhere Had They Any Word Of Kazanovitch,  Until I

Visited A Polish Artist Who Was Illustrating His Stories. He Had

Been There,  Looking Very Worn And Tired,  And Had Talked Vacantly

About The Sketches Which The Artist Had Showed Him. After That I

Lost All Trace Of Him Again. It Was Nearly Noon As I Hurried To

Meet Craig At Kharkoff's.

 

Imagine My Surprise To See Kazanovitch Already There,  Seated In

The Wrecked Office,  Furiously Smoking Cigarettes And Showing

Evident Signs Of Having Something Very Disturbing On His Mind. The

Moment He Caught Sight Of Me,  He Hurried Forward.

 

"Is Professor Kennedy Coming Soon?" He Inquired Eagerly. "I Was

Going Up To His Laboratory,  But I Called Up Nevsky,  And She Said

He Would Be Here At Noon." Then He Put His Hand Up To My Ear And

Whispered,  "I Have Found Out Who It Was Who Shadowed Kharkoff."

 

"Who?" I Asked,  Saying Nothing Of My Long Search Of The Morning.

 

"His Name Is Revalenko--Feodor Revalenko. I Saw Him Standing

Across The Street In Front Of The