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

gallows.’
    ‘Forgive me,’ she sobbed. ‘I – I went mad.’
    ‘I have nothing more to say except: treat this son of yours well – he deserves it.’
    He beckoned to his companions, and left the house, instructing Foster to keep watch on it until he was relieved by a man of theSpecial Branch. On the way back to headquarters he was very thoughtful. He did not think the woman would revenge herself on her son; she seemed genuinely grateful to him for his promptitude in preventing her from committing a mad act. Nevertheless, Sir Leonard resolved to keep an eye on the little boy. Little though the youngster realised it then, he had made a very warm and useful friend.

CHAPTER FIVE
    Agent Number Thirty-Three
    Captain Hugh Shannon had a very fine and speedy journey to Athens, but, after that, due to bad weather and other causes, he was delayed. The result was that he did not arrive in Famagusta until Friday morning, nearly four days after he had left London. It can be imagined that he was not in the best of moods when he arrived at the seaport. He certainly spent no time in gazing at the scenery, but took the first available train on the narrow gauge railway for Nicosia, the capital. There he booked a room, and deposited his bags, at the Palace Hotel, had a much-needed wash and brush-up, and went at once to call on the governor. Sir Gordon Stevenson received him in his private study, shook hands cordially, and invited him to be seated.
    ‘I am afraid, Captain Shannon,’ he announced at once, ‘that you have had your journey for nothing. I do not, of course, know exactly why you have come to Nicosia, though I have been given confidentially to understand that it was in connection with the visit to this island of Messieurs Plasiras and Bikelas. If it was your intention to interview those gentlemen, that is now out of thequestion. They departed rather suddenly on Wednesday morning.’
    ‘Departed!’ repeated Shannon in a dismayed tone. ‘Where have they gone, sir?’
    ‘I am unfortunately unable to tell you. As far as I know, they originally had no intention of leaving so soon. In fact, from enquiries I have made, I think their decision must have been taken almost on the spur of the moment. At all events, they embarked on the Messageries Maritimes steamer which called at Famagusta from Beirut on Wednesday. I reported the fact, of course, to London as I had been in communication with the Colonial Office concerning them. A cable arrived for you yesterday which possibly is consequent upon my report.’ He unlocked a drawer of his desk and, taking out a sealed envelope, handed it to his visitor. ‘That may tell you something,’ he remarked.
    Shannon opened it quickly, extracting the message within. It was in code, but a code he knew off by heart. ‘Excuse me a moment, sir,’ he begged.
    Sir Gordon nodded; sat watching while the young man rapidly scribbled a series of letters and figures under those written on the form. At length the Secret Service man had deciphered the communication.
    Spare no pains to trace them. If you require assistance, cable. Communicate immediately you have news.
    ‘This was obviously sent as a result of your information to the Colonial Office, sir,’ declared Shannon, ‘but they do not know the whereabouts of Plasiras and Bikelas. On the contrary, I am instructed by Sir Leonard Wallace to trace them.’ He read the decoded message aloud.
    ‘Why are your people so anxious to find them?’ queried the governor. ‘Now that they have departed from British soil, I should think interest in them would naturally cease, at least until they land on territory under the Union Jack again.’
    ‘Sir Leonard Wallace believes that a conspiracy is afoot. Until he finds out that it does not concern Great Britain or is non-existent, he will not lose interest in Plasiras and Bikelas.’
    ‘It seems to me that your task will prove to be rather difficult.’
    Shannon shook his head confidently.
    ‘You have