Part 31

“Oh well, if it’s not inconvenient, I’d like two fifties.”

“One’s all I can spare at the moment,” said Wenk, pulling a fifty-mark note out of his waistcoat-pocket.

“You needn’t be afraid of showing your purse, even if it has a hole in it,” remarked the man.

“You wouldn’t buy any more with fifty out of my purse than you can with that one!”

“Well, all right; no offence! Where are you staying?”

“In Barbarossa,” said Wenk, at a venture.

“Oh, if the folks there get hold of you, you won’t get out of their clutches, I can tell you! You go to the ‘Black Bull.’ They’ll look after you properly there, and everything is arranged so that you can fly off as easily as these greenbacks will. Not a trace left behind!”

Next morning Wenk flew back to Munich. His trip had been successful, and the journey in the pure clean air, cold though it was in the upper regions, invigorated him. He felt as if he were gathering the threads together in his hand and they were about to form a vast and invisible net, and he, the fisherman, felt himself ready and able to drag it in.

* * * * *

An hour before Wenk took up his stand at the grimy window of the iron-foundry opposite the “Black Bull,” the following conversation was carried on between Constance and Munich:

“Hulloa, Dr. Dringer speaking. Who is there?”

“Hulloa, this is Dr. Mabuse. What is it, please?”

“The invalid seems to be staying here. I am not quite certain yet that it is he, but I thought I recognized him. I am anxious for instructions.”

“That’s very strange. He was in Munich to my certain knowledge just about four o’clock yesterday. What time did you think you saw him, Doctor?”

“At half-past seven!”

“But the express does not leave until 7 p.m. and only reaches Lindau at 11 p.m. Even if he had used a car he could not possibly have reached Constance by half-past seven!”

“It is possible that I may have been mistaken, but hardly likely. I can’t at once abandon the idea that it was the lunatic we are searching for.”

“Well, in any case, my dear colleague, prosecute your inquiries, and if you are convinced, use the safest means at your command.”

“You mean the strait-waistcoat, Doctor?”

“Certainly, for you know he is dangerous to the community. Have you any other news? What about those neurotic patients?”

“They are quite ready to go to the sanatorium, and they start to-morrow.”

“Good. That’s all, thank you. My best wishes to you, Doctor.”

Mabuse went up and down his room in considerable excitement. How could it be possible that the State Attorney, who was still in Munich at 4 p.m. should have been seen in Constance at 7.30 p.m.? Might not George be mistaken?

He dressed himself as a messenger and repaired to the Amandastrasse, where Wenk had his chambers. He rang his door-bell, and a servant opened to him.

“Can I see the State Attorney?” he asked.

“He is not at home. Give me the letter.”

“I was to give it to him personally.... When will he be back?”

“I do not know.”