Here, Cliff found an uncased window. He slipped through it and dropped quickly to the roof behind a battlement. He made his way to the nearest of the smaller turrets. This had a narrow, slit-like opening, through which Cliff managed to squeeze his body.
He was in a small room, and as he walked across it, the floor yielded slightly beneath his feet. That indicated a trapdoor.
The trap opened upward. Cliff descended a cylindrical shaft of stone by means of a metal ladder. At the bottom, he encountered another door, locked.
It required careful probing with the key before he managed to unlock the barrier. Then Cliff found himself in a long, gloomy corridor that ran the full extent of the wing.
There was need for caution now. Instinctively, Cliff gripped the handle of his revolver.
The weapon would serve him handily, if he should encounter Petri or either of the two mobsters who lived in this section of the strange house.
Both sides of the corridor were lined with heavy, closed doors. At last, Cliff reached a stairway. Descending, he came to the ground floor, where the steps ended. Peering along the corridor to the central part of the house, he saw a closed door. Then he realized the arrangement.
The sliding door was merely the first barrier. Had he entered it, he would have found but one way to leave — through the door from the center of the house. It was a perfect trap; but Cliff had avoided it. Now he felt secure.
There were few doors here, and side passages led from the single corridor. Cliff went to each door in turn. At last he found the one he wanted. The dull sound of voices was audible, and as Cliff listened, he distinguished the tones of Ivan Orlinov and Glade Tremont. Oddly enough, their words referred to him.
"Good man, the one Towley sent you," Tremont was saying.