Chapter XIV: A Bold Move

The first part of Nick’s plan involved a certain amount of risk.

It takes courage to beard a man of Doctor Grantley’s type in his own lair, especially after a narrow escape from annihilation by acid in that same lair. Nick Carter never allowed such considerations to weigh with him, however, and the most he consented to do was to take his first assistant, Chick, with him when he set out for the Bronx.

Hoff opened the door a crack, in accordance with his usual suspicious attitude toward visitors. The detective promptly put his foot into the opening.

“Is Doctor Grantley in, Hoff?” Nick asked.

The servant’s face was a study. Amazement at the detective’s daring and hatred of him for the part he had played were both written there.

“I see he is,” Nick went on, without waiting for the belated reply. “Kindly let us in and inform the doctor that I wish to see him at once on important business.”

The German hesitated, but presently the door swung open, and they were invited, in a surly tone, to enter. After leading the way to the reception room, Hoff went upstairs. Five minutes later Doctor Grantley put in an appearance.

“You’re certainly a cool one, Carter!” was his greeting. “What the devil are you doing here? I thought you had sense enough to let me alone after that farce of a trial. What new maggot is busy in your head now?”

“I have left you alone all these weeks, haven’t I?” Nick asked, in turn. “And I would have continued to do so if you hadn’t taken such an extraordinary step.”

A sneer distorted Grantley’s face.

“Ah, so you have heard of the Baldwin matter, have you?” he asked. “Well, what about it? What business is it of yours?”

“I shall make it my business just so far as I see fit, Grantley,” was the quiet answer. “Knowing that you are a murderer at heart, do you suppose I am going to stand by with folded hands and let you get one of the most valuable lives in the country under your knife, without doing everything in my power to prevent it?”

“But it doesn’t happen to be in your power, my friend. You have no standing at all in this affair. It is purely a matter for Mr. Baldwin to decide, and he has chosen, after a searching investigation, to put himself into my hands. I am confident that I can restore his sight, and to that end I obtained an interview with him. He knows all about me--more than you do, in all probability--and there is nothing underhand about it. I suppose Vanderpool has run to you with the story, but I care nothing for Vanderpool’s opinion. I violated professional etiquette, of course, by openly offering my services; but I’ve never cared a row of pins for such rules. They’re beneath me. Besides, I had everything to gain and little or nothing to lose. Your confounded meddling has played the deuce with my reputation, if it hasn’t done anything else. I saw a chance to get on top again and make all those fools who have been attacking me sing another tune. That’s all there is about it, and you haven’t a leg to stand on.”

“That sounds plausible enough, as it was meant to sound,” the detective remarked; “but--are you sure you never lost any money through Baldwin, or on any of his stocks?”

The question came out like the snap of a whip, and Nick’s eyes bored into the surgeon as he watched for its effect.

Apparently, however, it had none. Grantley did not drop his eyes for a moment. He returned the detective’s glance, eye for eye, and not a muscle of his face moved.

“Guess again, Carter!” he said, after a pause.

He shrugged his shoulders now, and a triumphant grin overspread his face.

“You thought you had me, didn’t you?” he went on. “Well, your little third degree went for nothing. As I’ve said before, it’s none of your business; but I’m willing to stretch a point in order to get rid of you. Therefore, I’ll go so far as to assure you solemnly that there is absolutely nothing of that sort, or of anything else beyond what I have stated, about this forthcoming operation on Mr. Baldwin’s eyes. It will be perfectly straight, and you may be sure that I will give him the benefit of every bit of skill and experience I possess. Does that satisfy you?”

“It would if I had any confidence in your word, solemn or otherwise, Grantley. As it happens, however, I did not ask you for any such assurance in regard to the proposed operation on Baldwin’s eyes. You couldn’t inflict much damage on them, no matter how criminal your motive might be. But how about some other operation or experiment along your favorite lines? Will you declare as earnestly that you have no intention of playing any tricks of that sort?”

Again Grantley’s eyes met the detective’s without the slightest attempt at evasion.

“Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to kick you out of this house for suggesting such a thing, Carter,” he said, with an obvious effort to control himself, “but I suppose I’ll have to humor you again. Suspicion is your stock in trade, and if you can’t find a legitimate suspicion, you’re evidently content with any old kind, no matter how insulting or ridiculous. No, my spying friend; I swear that I have never had any thought of conducting any experiments in vivisection on J. Hackley Baldwin. Nobody but a lunatic would. A sane man would as soon set fire to a sheaf of thousand-dollar bills, which represented the bulk of his wealth. Why, man, you’re letting your silly fears run away with you! Baldwin has promised me a quarter of a million dollars if this operation is a success, and he would have given me twice as much--four times as much--just as readily, if I had insisted upon it. Do you suppose for a moment that I would try any tricks on him, as you call it, with such a reward in prospect? Where’s all that superhuman cleverness of yours, of which I’ve heard so much--and seen so little?”

Nick refused to take offense, however, and was not daunted in the least. He returned again and again to the attack from different angles, but was at last obliged to give it up.

Grantley stood his ground throughout, and none of Nick’s questions seemed to cause him any embarrassment. If Grantley was plotting against the financier in any way, Nick had to confess to himself that he was about the coolest and most accomplished liar that a long experience had brought to light.

Curiously enough, the only tangible thing which kept Nick’s suspicions alive was the fact that Grantley returned his glances so defiantly. He got the impression that the surgeon was forcing himself to do so by sheer power of will. It seemed a little overdone.

At last Nick was compelled to withdraw with as good grace as he could, none the wiser for the interview. Grantley lost no opportunity to jeer at him, but made no hostile demonstration of any other sort.

At the first opportunity, Nick called upon the blind millionaire, by appointment. He was not able, however, to give any definite or compelling reasons for his attitude, and, as he had feared, all of his arguments were in vain.

Baldwin admitted the truth of many of the detective’s points, but they had no weight with him. He plainly showed his knowledge of Grantley’s past unscrupulousness, but declared that he was willing to take whatever risks might be involved.

Nothing could shake his conviction that the surgeon would not dare to injure him in any way, and he returned repeatedly to Grantley’s own strongest argument--namely, that the vivisectionist had, in the huge fee at stake, the greatest possible incentive to do his best.

Finally, the millionaire thanked Nick for his interest, but announced his intention of submitting to the operation at the time appointed.

“I’d give millions, if necessary, to any one who could give me back my sight, Mr. Carter,” he said, as Nick rose to go; “and the character and previous record of Doctor Grantley are matters of supreme indifference to me. If he were guilty of all the crimes in the penal code, I should still put myself into his hands, for every conceivable consideration of self-interest would operate to make him hold me sacred and to give me the utmost of which he is capable.”

As yet, Nick had nothing to show for his pains, but he did not give up.