He heard the doorknob turning. The door was locked, but it was flimsy. It would be simple for them to break it in. He quickly groped his way in the dark to the table where he had locked away Burke’s tape. He heard a creak as pressure was applied against the reception-room door. Then he heard someone fumbling at the lock. Why don’t they just break it down? he thought. Somewhere, far back in his mind, he felt the answer was important, but he had no time to think about it now. With trembling fingers he unlocked the drawer with the tape in it. He ripped it out of its cardboard container, then moved over to the tape player and started to thread it. It was an outside chance, but it was the only one he had.
He stood there, concentrating, trying to recall his exact conversation with Burke. The pressure on the door increased. Judd gave a quick, silent prayer. “I’m sorry about the power going out,” he said aloud. “But I’m sure they’ll have it fixed in a few minutes, Harrison. Why don’t you lie down and relax?”
The noise at the door suddenly ceased. Judd had finished threading the tape into the player. He pressed the “on” button. Nothing happened. Of course! All the power in the building was off. He could hear them begin to work on the lock again. A feeling of desperation seized him. “That’s better,” he said loudly. “Just make yourself comfortable.” He fumbled for the packet of matches on the table, found it, tore out a match and lit it. He held the flame close to the tape player. There was a switch marked “battery.” He turned the knob, then pressed the “on” button again. At that moment, there was a sudden click as the lock on the door sprung open. His last defense was gone!
And then Burke’s voice rang through the room. “Is that all you’ve got to say? You don’t even want to hear my proof. How do I know you’re not one of them?”
Judd froze, not daring to move, his heart roaring like thunder.
“You know I’m not one of them,” said Judd’s voice from the tape. “I’m your friend. I’m trying to help you… Tell me about your proof.”
“They broke into my house last night,” Burke’s voice said. “They came to kill me, but I was too clever for them. I sleep in my den now, and I have extra locks on all the doors so they can’t get to me.”
The sounds in the outer office had ceased.
Judd’s voice again. “Did you report the break-in to the police?”
“Of course not! The police are in it with them. They have orders to shoot me. But they wouldn’t dare do it while there are other people around, so I stay in crowds.”
“I’m glad you gave me this information.”
“What are you going to do with it?”
“I’m listening very carefully to everything you say,” said Judd’s voice. “I’ve got it all down”—at that moment a warning screamed in Judd’s brain; the next words were—”on tape.”
He made a dive for the switch and pressed it. “—in my mind,” Judd said loudly. “And we’ll work out the best way to handle it.” He stopped. He could not play the tape again because he had no way of telling where to pick it up. His only hope was that the men outside were convinced that Judd had a patient in the office with him. Even if they believed that, would it stop them?
“Cases like this,” Judd said, raising his voice, “are really more common than you’d believe, Harrison.” He gave an impatient exclamation. “I wish they’d get these lights back on. I know your chauffeur’s waiting out in front for you. He’ll probably wonder what’s wrong and come up.”
Judd stopped and listened. He could hear whispering from the other side of the door. What were they deciding? From the distant street below, he suddenly heard the insistent wail of an approaching siren. The whispering stopped. He listened for the sound of the outer door closing, but he could hear nothing. Were they still out there, waiting? The scream of the siren grew louder. It stopped in front of the building.