Also, to Carnes' openly expressed and Dr. Bird's secret worry, Thelma Andrews had not returned to the Bureau of Standards. The Russian girl, formerly known as Feodrovna Androvitch, a tool and follower of Ivan Saranoff, had acted with Carnes and the doctor in their long drawn-out fight with the arch-communist often enough to be a marked woman.
Urged by Carnes, Bolton, the head of the Secret Service, put a dozen of his best men on her trail, but they found nothing. She had disappeared as thoroughly as if the earth had opened and swallowed her up. At last, as the combing of the Aberdeen marshes yielded no results, Dr. Bird acceded to Carnes' request, and the detective left for Washington to take personal charge of the search. Dr. Bird sat alone in his quarters at the Officers' Club, futilely wracking his brains for a clue to his further procedure.
The telephone rang loudly. With a grunt, he took down the receiver.
A feminine voice spoke with a strong foreign accent.
"I vant der Herr Doktor Vogel, plees!"
"You want who? Oh, yes. Vogel—bird! This is Dr. Bird speaking."
The voice instantly lost both its foreign accent and its guttural quality.
"I thought so when you spoke, Doctor, but I wanted to make sure. This is Thelma Andrews."
"Where the devil have you been? Half the Secret Service is looking for you, including Carnes, who deserted me and is in Washington."