The Romanoff Jewels by Maxwell Grant & Walter Gibson

Author:Maxwell Grant & Walter Gibson [Grant, Maxwell & Gibson, Walter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Espionage, Fiction, Thrillers
ISBN: 9780515038774
Amazon: 0515038776
Publisher: Street & Smith
Published: 1932-12-15T08:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XI. MOTKIN MEETS THE SHADOW

ANOTHER night had come to Moscow. The turmoil of the eventful evening when Senov had made his master stroke had long since been suppressed. Three days had passed since the raiders had pillaged the closely guarded vault.

Ivan Motkin was thinking of the subsequent events as he walked briskly along the street toward his residence. The perpetual scowl was on his face. Matters had gone both good and bad for Ivan Motkin.

His hunch that he would be ordered to recover all that had been stolen had proved correct. That very task had been assigned to him. But with complete power at his disposal, Ivan Motkin had not gained a single trace of the vanished wealth.

It was believed that the ring leaders–one at least–had escaped by airplane. Bolshevist troops had rounded up suspected Czarist agents. None had been captured alive; all had fought to the end.

Fate had been playing a strange game with Ivan Motkin. During these eight days, while his subordinates had been vainly seeking some clew to the vanished gems, he had held the one person whose testimony might prove the needed link. Yet he had been unable to interrogate his prisoner.

The man had apparently been hovering between life and death. Badly wounded in his conflict with the Bolshevik soldiers, he was recovering now, but seemed too weak for quizzing.

Entering the first floor of his apartment, Motkin encountered Gregori, the man who served as his chauffeur. Before the official could speak, Gregori held up his hand in warning.

A stocky, bearded man was descending the stairs. It was the physician whom Motkin had brought in to tend the captive.

"Prensky is guarding him," whispered Gregori. "The doctor has been here for the last hour."

Motkin nodded. He advanced to meet the physician.

"How is the patient, doctor?" he asked.

"Much better," responded the physician. "His delirium has vanished. He is greatly improved–but seems very weak."

"I can speak to him -"

"Not now"–the doctor shook his head–"but to-morrow, surely. He is sleeping, and must not be disturbed until the morning. He is past all danger. Soon he will be well. But should he be awakened now, his weakness might return very quickly."

"You will come to-morrow?"

"Not unless it is absolutely necessary Ordinary care will assure his recovery from now on."

Motkin watched the physician depart. Like many other professional men in Moscow, this doctor had once been suspected of Czarist leanings. Motkin had done much to assure the man's safety under the Bolshevist regime. He knew that he could rely upon absolute silence.

WHEN Motkin reached his upstairs room, Prensky came in to see him, and repeated what the physician had said. The captive was sleeping quietly. A telephone bell rang before Motkin could make a reply.

Motkin's voice was a growl as he answered the phone. Then it changed to a careful tone. Prensky knew that the man was speaking to some superior. He saw Motkin's eyes light as his lips formed quick phrases.

"Yes? You have received a report from Paris? Ah... Michael Senov... Yes, he has been missing.

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