Chapter 7: Strange Interview

Bentley and Tyler were to learn in the next few minutes how great was the executive ability of Caleb Barter. He had created a mighty puzzle, each and every bit of which must fit together exactly. Time was important in making the puzzle complete--and the puzzle changed with each passing second. As the anthropoid went slowly down the face of the Clinton Building, Bentley was sure that Barter controlled every move and saw every slightest thing that transpired. He knew very well that of all the great organization which had been set to prevent the taking of Saret Balisle, not a man would now shoot at the ape for fear of jeopardizing the life of Balisle.

And yet Balisle was being spirited away to pass through an experience which would be far worse than a merciful bullet through the brain or the heart. Bentley knew he would be justified in the eyes of humanity if he ordered his men to fire upon the anthropoid, even if he were sure that Balisle would die. But as long as there was life there was hope, too, and he couldn’t bring himself to give the order.

The ape dropped down the face of the building as easily as he would have dropped from limb to limb of a jungle tree. The sixteen stories under him did not disconcert him at all. Bentley had a suspicion about this particular ape, but he wouldn’t know for a time yet whether his suspicion had a basis in fact. He couldn’t think of a man--especially an old man like Harold Hervey--making that hair-raising descent. Yet ... if he were controlled, mind and soul, by Caleb Barter the Mind Master... ?

“Tyler,” said Bentley tersely. “The instant the ape reaches the street I’m going to order your men to fire. You will shout out to them now, designating which ones shall fire. Be sure they are crack marksmen who will drill the ape without hitting Balisle--and, by all means, have them wait so that the ape’s fall won’t send Balisle crashing to death.”

“Maybe I’d better tell them to rush him?”

“Maybe that’s better, but remember they’re dealing with a giant anthropoid, in strength at least, and that somebody is likely to be fatally injured. In addition the ape may tear Balisle apart as soon as men start to close in on him. Barter will have thought of that, and all he’ll have to do to make his puppet perform is to will him to do it. No, they’ll have to shoot--and tell them to aim at his head and heart.”

Tyler leaned out of the window and shouted to the men across the street.

“Shoot as soon as the ape reaches the sidewalk!” he cried. “Be careful you don’t hit Balisle.”

And from Balisle himself, muffled and frightened, came a sudden cry.

“Shoot now! I’d rather fall and have it over with!”

There was a moment of silence. Bentley almost gave the order to fire when the ape was at the twelfth story, but he held his tongue by a supreme effort of will.

Balisle looked down. It must have been a terrifying experience to swing above such a horrible abyss by one leg, and for a moment Balisle lost his head. He screamed and started to grapple with his grim captor.

“Don’t, Balisle!” shouted Tyler. “You’ll make him lose his balance. Hang on as you are and we’ll get him when he reaches the street.”

“What good will it do?” screamed Balisle, his voice taking on a high keening note as the ape dropped again, this time from the twelfth to the eleventh floor. “He slipped it over a hundred men to get me this far. He’ll find a way to beat you when he reaches the street, too.”

Bentley had a sinking feeling that Balisle spoke the truth; but even so, he could not see how anybody, even Barter, could walk through the trap which was being tightened around the descending anthropoid.

It made Bentley dizzy to watch the slow methodical descent of the anthropoid. He could fancy himself in Balisle’s position and it made him sick and faint. He understood the desperation which caused Balisle to make yet another attempt to battle with the ape.

Then the ape did a grim thing.

He paused on the eleventh floor, and crouching on a window sill, deliberately snapped Balisle’s head against the wall of the Clinton Building! In his time Bentley had slain rabbits exactly like that. Balisle hung now as limp as a rag and blood dripped from his mouth and nose. But Bentley knew, as his face went white at the sound of that sharp, thudding blow that Balisle had not been killed by it.

Savage oaths burst from the lips of policemen who saw the action of the ape.

“He acts like a human being! An ape wouldn’t have thought of that!”

The words came hysterically from the lips of a woman who, frightened though she was, could not tear herself from the window to the right of where Bentley and Tyler leaned out to stare down.

Bentley smiled grimly. What would she think if he told her gravely that the creature crawling down the face of the building was not quite an ape?

So far the public didn’t know what the Mind Master schemed. He’d spoken of stealing brains, but that had meant nothing to the general public. Just the maunderings of a madman, perhaps.

At the third floor the anthropoid hesitated. He seemed to be gazing all around, noting the preparations which were being made to trap him at the street level.

“An ape wouldn’t do that,” muttered Bentley. “A man would. The man in that manape is showing through--but he won’t be able to force himself free of Barter’s domination. If he could he’d probably throw Balisle down now to keep him from being ... well, treated as Barter intends to treat him.”

The ape dropped to the second floor. Silence seemed to hang over Fifth Avenue. Ugly gun muzzles protruded from every window across the street. Scores of rifles were aimed down from windows in the Clinton Building, to drill the ape through from above.

At that instant a limousine whirled into Fifth Avenue, traveling fast, and ground to a stop under the ape.

“What’s this?” cried Bentley.

“That’s Saret Balisle’s car,” said Tyler. “There’s nobody in it but his chauffeur. The fool! Does he think he can take his master away from the ape singlehanded?”

“That looks like foolhardy loyalty, but I’m not so sure that it’s Balisle’s chauffeur at the wheel. Tyler, send somebody down to wherever it is that Balisle parks his car.”