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Updated: June 29, 2025
While Brennan was telling the story and describing how they had planned to obtain a written report of the conversation between Gibson and the "Gink" by use of the dictograph, the mayor sat perched on the edge of his chair, his eyes gleaming with pent-up excitement. When Brennan had finished he bounced up and circled the desk with quick strides to shake them both by the hand.
There is more important work for us to do right here. I want to try to install a dictograph in their apartment." "How exciting." "You must find some excuse for me to come up into your apartment and see to it that none of your people are about." "That will be easy. Mother and Aunt will be out all day, and it is cook's afternoon off. I can easily send the maids out." "But that's not all.
I don't think he has to." "You mean," Sturm stammered, perturbed, "you think he knows suspects?" "I think he is one thing or the other: merely Nogam, or one of the greatest of living actors. In either case he is flawless thus far. But if not merely Nogam, he will have a subtler means of eavesdropping than by listening at doors." "The dictograph?" "Make your mind easy about that.
He was a German, she told herself. He was an enemy of her country. He lived with a man who had been proved to be a spy. He surreptitiously associated with American naval officers. The dictograph told her that nightly his uncle and he in the seclusion of their home toasted America's arch enemy, the German Kaiser. More than likely, too, her reason told her, he was a murderer.
Brennan's plan for the use of the dictograph was approved and they were commended for their enterprise. "If you put this over," the city editor told John, "I'll double your salary." It was P. Q. who suggested that Benton, the photographer, accompany them and endeavor to obtain a picture of Cummings and Gibson together. "That would cinch it," he said.
"Imagine that you are sitting at a table in Albano's back room," was all he said. "This is what you would be hearing. This is my 'electric ear' in other words the dictograph, used, I am told, by the Secret Service of the United States. Wait, in a moment you will hear Gennaro come in. Luigi and Vincenzo, translate what you hear. My knowledge of Italian is pretty rusty."
Bang! went a pistol, and another. The dictograph, which had been all sound a moment before, was as mute as a cigar-box. "What's the matter?" I asked Kennedy, as he rushed past me. "They have shot out the lights. My receiving instrument is destroyed. Come on, Jameson; Vincenzo, stay back, if you don't want to appear in this." A short figure rushed by me, faster even than I could go.
"Don't chance it," says I. "I wouldn't have anything happen to you for the world. I'll tell Judson I've come alone, to talk for the dictograph and stand on the trapdoor. And as you go down the stairs there better walk close to the wall." J. Bayard, still smilin', takes the hint. "Oh, I may turn up, after all," says he as he leaves. "Huh!" says I, indicatin' deep scorn.
"How did you get your first hint?" he gasped. Kennedy was digging into the wall with a bill file at the place where he had buried the little vulcanised disc. I had already guessed that it was a dictograph, though I could not tell how it was used or who used it. There it was, set squarely in the plaster. There also were the wires running under the carpet.
He felt sure now that he was on the right track. He recalled that Jane Strong over the dictograph had heard old Hoff speak of something that he called the "wonder-worker." As soon as Carter returned with the other advertisements that had been appearing he felt positive that he would be able to unravel the cipher. Two words he was sure of "passports" and "wonder-working."
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