The Problem of Cell 13 by Jacques Futrelle. Part 2
Watch on KineScope.
And so they made the arrangements. They had to obtain permission for the experiment but all three of them were important men and everything was finalized with a few telephone calls. The prison governors could not understand why Professor Van Dusen wanted to do it. But one thing was certain. They had never had such an important prisoner.
The Thinking Machine dressed himself in the clothes that he was going to wear in prison, and called his housekeeper.
“Martha,” he said, “it is now twenty-seven minutes past nine. I am going away. One week from tonight at half-past nine, these gentlemen and one or two others will have dinner with me here. Remember Dr Ransome likes carrots.”
A driver took the three men to Chisholm Prison. The warden was waiting for them. He understood only that Professor Van Dusen was going to be his prisoner for one week. He was not a criminal, but he must be treated just like any other prisoner.
“Search him,” said Dr Ransome.
The guards searched The Thinking Machine but they didn’t find anything. The pockets of his trousers were empty and his shirt didn’t have any pockets. They took off his shoes and socks and looked inside them. Nothing.
Dr Ransome regarded Van Dusen’s weak body and his colorless face. He was suddenly sorry about his idea.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.
“Would you believe me if I didn’t do it?” The Thinking Machine replied.
“No.”
“All right, I’ll do it.”
Ransome didn’t like the arrogance in Van Dusen’s voice. His sympathy for the man disappeared. He decided that the experiment was a good thing. It would teach The Thinking Machine a lesson.
“Will it be possible for him to communicate with anyone outside the prison?” he asked.
“No. It will be absolutely impossible,” said the warden. “He will not have anything to write with.”
“And the guards, will they send messages for him?”
“Not one word,” said the warden. “They will tell me anything he says and they will give me anything he gives them.”
“Good,” said Mr Fielding.
“Of course if he does not escape in a week,” said Dr Ransome, “and asks to leave, you will let him go?”
“I understand,” said the warden.
Then The Thinking Machine spoke.
“I have three requests,” he said, “I would like some toothpaste and also one five-dollar and two ten- dollar bills”
“Could he bribe your guards for twenty-five dollars?”
Not even for twenty-five hundred dollars.”
“In that case, give him the money,” said Mr Fielding.
“And what is the third request?” asked Dr Ransome.
“Could somebody clean my shoes?”
The three men looked very surprised. This last request seemed completely absurd, but they agreed to it anyway. After this, they took The Thinking Machine to his cell. They walked down a long corridor and stopped at the third steel door.
“Here is Cell 13,” said the warden. “This is where condemned killers are kept. No one can leave it without my permission. No one in it can communicate with anyone outside. It is very near my office and I can hear any noise that comes from it.”
“Is this cell all right, gentlemen?” asked The Thinking Machine.
“Yes, it’s perfect,” replied Fielding and Ransome together.
The guard opened the door and The Thinking Machine walked into the dark room. No sooner was he inside than the warden closed the door and locked it with a double lock. Ransome heard a noise from inside the cell.
“What is that noise?” he asked through the bars.
“Rats – the cell is full of rats,” replied The Thinking Machine.
The three men said goodnight and were turning to go when The Thinking Machine called:
“What time is it exactly, warden?”
“Seventeen minutes past eleven.”
“Thanks. I will see you all in your office at half-past eight one week from this evening,” said The Thinking Machine.
“And if you do not?”
“There is no possibility of that.”