Part 51

DR. MABUSE, Neurologist.

He hastened away, merely noting the numbers of the houses standing near. The street consisted of detached villas. A mist swam before his eyes, and the blood pounded in his pulses; there was a sound as of pistols in his ears. He had his man. No, he had not got him, but at last he knew who he was!

Before doing anything else he drove to the prison, for the time Cara Carozza had demanded had now expired, and what she might tell him would probably set the seal upon the success of his enterprise.

* * * * *

Early that morning, when it was time for the warder of the women’s prison to make his first round, the door of Cara’s cell was opened. The dancer was still asleep. She was shaken by the shoulder and, awaking quickly, found the warder bending over her, yet it was not the warder, it was Spoerri. Surely she was dreaming? But no, she was still in prison. How came Spoerri to her bedside? She put her hand to her eyes to shut out the vision, and yet she knew in her heart it was reality. Spoerri was standing there. He said to her:

“Surely you know that I am in league with the warder?” She nodded. “Then you know, too, that he told me what happened yesterday when the State Attorney came to see you?”

“What did he tell you?” the girl asked breathlessly.

“That you are going to betray the master!”

The dancer sprang out of bed. “Who says so?” she shouted.

“Please don’t talk so loudly. The warder says so.”

“It is a lie.”

“The warder would have no interest in lying.”

“Did he tell the doctor so?” she asked anxiously, and Spoerri lied in answer:

“Yes, of course he did, and the doctor sent me to you.”

“It is a lie,” cried Cara again, on the verge of tears; “I was going to save him!”

“How can you prove that?”

“I was going to save him, I tell you. Spoerri, danger is threatening him.”

“Danger is always threatening him. That’s mere nonsense. Can you prove what you say?”

Cara hastily related what had passed between her and Wenk. Spoerri answered indifferently:

“I mean, can you prove it beyond all shadow of doubt? But be quick, please, for I must get away from here in five minutes.”

“What can I do to make the doctor believe me?” asked the girl in despair.

“I must tell you that the doctor is very disturbed, for he could not have believed it of you.”

“No, no, I could never have done it,” she stammered, thoroughly downcast; “but how am I to prove that I didn’t ... how can I prove it? Surely you know, Spoerri, that....”

Then Spoerri with a smile drew out of his pocket a small flask. “The proof lies there,” he said.

“Where?” asked the distracted girl.

“In here, my pretty one; don’t you see?”

“I don’t understand you,” said the dancer.

“Oh, you don’t need to understand, my child, only to drink. Just one little mouthful to swallow and then the doctor will know your word was to be relied on.”