XI--THE BACK ROOM AT JERRY'S
The taxi drew up to the curb. Billy Kane's hat was far over his eyes ashe stepped out. He stood an instant debating with himself, then handedthe chauffeur another bill. What might happen at Jerry's he did notknow--he was going it blind again. But as a means of retreat, a taxiwaiting around the corner would at least add to his chances, ifnecessity arose. And a chauffeur well paid was a guarantee of fidelitythan which there was none better.
"You've struck a gold mine to-night," he said coolly. "I may be gonehalf an hour, or I may be gone an hour--wait for me."
"You bet your life, I'll wait!" said the chauffeur fervently. "I----"
Billy Kane was hurrying down the street. He turned the first corner, andheaded along the intersecting street, that was dark, narrow anddeserted. He passed another cross street, and thereafter counted thehouses as he went along. Here tenements and the old-fashioned dwellingsof New York's early days incongruously rubbed shoulders with oneanother. Jerry's, he found, was the fifth house from the cross street.There was no mistaking Jerry's. It was one of the old private dwellings,and it had been pointed out to him more than once. He returned to thecross street, turned down it, slipped into the lane that passed in therear of the houses he had just inspected from the front, and, guardedlynow, making his way silently along, he again counted the buildings thathere in the darkness loomed up like black, uncouth shapes against thesky line. He stopped in the rear of the fifth house. Here and there athread of light showed from a window, but it was a stealthy light, alight that played truant through the interstices of closed shutters, orseeped perhaps through the folds of curtains hanging inadvertently awry.It was abnormally dark, and in the darkness there seemed to lurk asomber secrecy, like a pall, cloaking evil things.
Billy Kane swung himself up and over a high fence, and droppednoiselessly to the ground on the other side. He found himself in a yardthat, even in the darkness, he could make out was strangely restrictedin area. A few feet in front of him was the wall of the building itself.He crept forward, skirting along this wall. There was no window, butopening almost on a level with the ground were shuttered French doors.He continued on, rounded the angle of the building, and suddenly stoopeddown in a crouching posture. There was a window here just above hishead, and from it came a meager gleam of light. His eyes grownaccustomed to the darkness, he could distinguish his surroundings alittle more clearly now. The yard here, a narrow strip of it parallelingthe side fence, seemed to run back quite a distance, taking up a jut inthe building. They had puzzled him, those shuttered French doors wherelogically he had expected to find an ordinary back door and porch, butit was obvious now that the "back room at Jerry's" was an addition thathad been built onto the house, extending almost to the fence in therear.
The window beneath which he crouched was shoulder high. He straightenedup. The light came through slightly parted, heavy portieres. He felt theblood quicken suddenly in his veins. He could see in quite well. Therewere two men in the room--Karlin, and another man whom he did notrecognize. The room was luxuriously, if somewhat garishly furnished. Agreen baize card table, with several unopened packs of cards upon it,stood in the center; there was a blue-and-gold Chinese rug with a hugedragon pattern upon the floor; and at one side a large buffet groanedunder a load of wine and whisky bottles, bowls of fruit, andrefreshments of various descriptions. The two men were talkingearnestly. Karlin pulled out his watch, and scowled.
Billy Kane's lips tightened. He could see, but he could not hear. Hetook his penknife from his pocket, and slipped the blade under thewindow sill. If he had luck, if the window was not locked, he--ah!--hisbreath came in a soft, long-drawn intake--the window gave slightly undera cautious pressure. An inch was all that was necessary, half an incheven. The window went up by infinitesimal fractions of that inch.
Billy Kane returned the penknife to his pocket. He could hear them now.Karlin was speaking; and the other man, it appeared now, was theproprietor of the place, Jerry, the ex-croupier of Monte Carlo.
"What's the matter with you, Jerry--getting nervous waiting?" saidKarlin curtly. "Well, forget it! This is the Rat's plan--and that oughtto be good enough, what? Nothing is going wrong, nothing can go wrong.Certainly, the police will close you up for a month, but that's allthere is to it, so far as you are concerned. They have nothing on you.That's the inside of the whole thing--that the killing is done in anunpremeditated, drunken brawl over cards--that it just happened--just anuntimely end without any other strings to it! There's no reason why youshould lose your nerve--your story is straight. Young Merxler came hereoften. He gives a little party here to-night. Neither you nor yourdoorkeeper knows a damned one of his guests. He vouched for them, andthat's all you know. You heard a row in here, then a revolver shot, andwhen you got here the table was upset, wine, cards and glasses all overthe place, the boys beating it out through the French doors there, andyoung Merxler dead on the floor. You just notify the police. Your lossthrough being closed for a month makes it a cinch your story'sstraight--you don't have to tell the police that your share of the splitis the best bet you ever made in your life! Let _me_ do the worrying!I'm the one who's taking the risk. I'm the one who's been showing aseamy side to Merxler in confidence lately. I'm the one who's invitedhim to the party that the police will be told _he_ was giving. You canleave it to me that nothing goes wrong. I've got my own skin staked onthis. There won't be any mistake made--dead men can't talk. The onlything I'm bothering about is what is keeping Bull McCann. He might----"
Billy Kane drew suddenly back from the window, and crouched down againagainst the wall of the building. Someone, unless he were curiouslymistaken, was out there in the lane at the rear of the place. He waslistening intently now--but there was a strange turmoil in his brainthat seemed somehow to divide his attention, that had made his act ofcaution one that was almost purely automatic. Murder! That _casual_discussion of murder! There was something within him, soul deep, that hecould not quite analyse--save that it seemed a lust for murder was uponhim too, possessing him, engulfing him. Would _that_ be murder? Was itmurder to crush out the life of a poison-fanged snake! There was a furyupon him, but a most strange fury, a fury that was utterly cold--andutterly merciless. Murder! Yes, he knew now beyond question that therewas to be murder, that the stage for it was set with a devil's craft,with the craft of the Rat whose identity _he_ had assumed; that it wouldappear on the face of it nothing more than quite a logical outcome ofthe life led by young Merxler, that there would appear to be noconnection whatever with young Merxler's death and what was tofollow--but what was it that was to follow? How, in what way, was thismurder, in dollars and cents, to show a profit at the next meeting ofthat unhallowed directorate of crime? How did Karlin----
Strange how his mind should isolate itself from his immediatesurroundings, and yet leave him fully conscious of those surroundings!He was still listening--listening intently. There was no mistake. A bootscraped against a board. Someone was climbing the fence. Came then thesoft thud of feet dropping to the ground, and now a quick step acrossthe yard.
Billy Kane's revolver was in his hand. If the newcomer came around thecorner of the house, dark as it was, it was almost certain that--no! Theother had halted evidently before those shuttered French doors, and wasrapping softly--three raps, a single rap, two raps. The raps wererepeated. Someone moved swiftly across the floor of the room. There wasthe faint clash of portiere rings, and the sound of the French doorsbeing opened.
Billy Kane was at the window again. A third man was in the room now.Karlin was speaking sharply.
"You've been a long time coming, Bull!"
The newcomer, his back turned to Billy Kane, shrugged his shoulders.
"I had to wait until Merxler went out," he answered. "I didn't lose notime after that, an' I came downtown as fast as I could. I ain't beenmuch more'n half an hour from Merxler's to here."
"Well, all right!" grunted Karlin. "Have any trouble?"
"Nix!" said the other. "I slipped the en
velope into the drawer of thesafe, all right. It was a cinch! The family was all upstairs."
Karlin nodded.
"Where are the securities?" he demanded.
The man took what Billy Kane could see were a number of stock and bondcertificates from his pocket, and handed them to Karlin.
Karlin nodded again, as he ran through the papers rapidly.
"How much did you leave in the safe?" he inquired crisply.
"What Red told me--about ten or twelve thousand."
"All right!" said Karlin. "Good work, Bull! Beat it, now!"
The man turned, and left the room. Billy Kane heard him step across theyard, heard him climb the fence, heard Karlin within the room close theshuttered French doors--but this time Billy Kane made no movement, savethat there was a curious twitching of his face muscles as his jawslocked together. All the bald, hellish brutality of the scheme wasbeginning to take form now in his mind. It was a plant, all of it, theletter, the will; a plant with the devil's stamp of ingenuity uponit--and it was the man who had just gone from the room, Bull McCann, whohad passed him on that black stairway from the basement in Merxler'shome!
Karlin was laughing in a viciously jubilant way, as he came back to theex-croupier's side.
"Fifty thousand dollars!" said Karlin, as he thrust the securities intothe inside pocket of his coat, and patted the pocket complacently."Fifty thousand, Jerry, and all of it in Theodore Rodger's name--I keptstalling the kid on the idea of transferring the securities into his ownname--told him there was no hurry--that he could clip the coupons andget the dividend checks through all right, just the same. I was hisattorney too--see? Works pretty smooth, eh, Jerry? Too bad you didn'tget a chance to have a look at that letter and the will! The Chipper didthe job, and they're the best pieces of forged penwork that were everpulled in America! Some head the Rat's got, I'll give him credit forthat--he worded the letter. It's _prima facie_ evidence that the kid wasblowing the coin just as fast as he did when he came into his father'smoney--and nobody's surprised that most of it has gone up in smoke. And,besides that, it's a confession. Well, what happens? Merxler is killedin a gambling brawl--at which nobody is surprised, either!--his safe isopened, the will is found, and with it that little hymn of hate againstme, which accounts for what would otherwise have been a fool play inhaving kept the will. I am found to be the executor, empowered totransfer and sell, and administer the estate--and we find that allthat's left is about ten thousand--which is _all_ I have to account for.I enter that as the value of the estate, split it up among thebeneficiaries, and"--he chuckled softly--"I generously waive my claim toany share in the legacy on the score that the estate has been so hardhit. Neat little play, eh, Jerry? Well, after that, there's nothing toit! My signature is legally good on any document, and little by little,here and there, we turn the fifty thousand into the long green--andpocket it. If it's done quietly, a security or so at a time, no onewould ever think of digging around to find out if it was one of those onthe schedule filed by the estate. Feeling better, Jerry?"
The ex-croupier walked over to the buffet, poured out for himself astiff four fingers of whisky, and tossed off the neat spirit at a gulp.He forced an uneasy grin.
"I don't often drink in business hours," he said nervously. "But I'm notused to playing this high--maybe I'm a little shaky. Are you sure-fireon the witnesses to that will? Their signatures would have to beproved."
"They're the only things that are genuine," said Karlin, with amalicious laugh. "We had two of our boys working around the hotel downon Long Island where Rodgers spent a month this spring, and where he issupposed to have written the will. They identify their signatures, andtheir story's straight. Rodgers asked them to witness his signature to apaper, that's all. He didn't tell them what the paper was, and theydidn't know--see? If there's any question crops up, the hotel provesthat the two men were its employees at the time Rodgers was stayingthere." He pulled out his watch again. "It's ten o'clock!" he saidbrusquely. "Merxler ought to be showing up. I----"
The ex-croupier had suddenly laid a finger to his lips in caution. Aknock was sounding on the hall door.
"Here he is now," said the ex-croupier, in a lowered voice. "I told themto send him here as soon as he came."
"All right, let him in," instructed Karlin. "And tell the boys to driftalong as soon as they like. _It's the man who cuts the first jack._"
The ex-croupier opened the door, and was instantly continental in bothmanner and speech. He bowed profoundly, as a young man entered.
"Ah, Monsieur Merxler--a great pleasure! I was telling Monsieur Karlinthat----"
Billy Kane had drawn slightly back from the window. His lips werethinned, compressed. The fiendishness of it all had got him now---Karlinwith his suave, oily, Judas smile, preening at his Vandyke beard--andMerxler, for all that he had played the fool for several years now,still with a frank and boyish face, his broad shoulders squared back ashe laughed a pleasant greeting. There was a whiteness in Billy Kane'sface, a whiteness that was like to the fury, no longer cold, that waswhite-hot in his soul. Murder! Well, perhaps--but it would not beMerxler's murder! He whipped his mask from his pocket, and adjusted itswiftly over his face. His fingers automatically tested the mechanism ofhis revolver, as he again looked in through the window. The ex-croupierwas bowing himself out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Quick and silent now in every movement, Billy Kane crept around thecorner of the house, and crouched before the shuttered French doors. Hehad a minute, perhaps two at the outside, in which to act beforeKarlin's confederates entered the room. He tapped softly with hisrevolver on the shutters--three raps, a single rap, two raps; herepeated it--three raps, a single rap, two raps.
From within a step came hurriedly across the floor, there was the faintclashing of the curtain rings again as the portieres were drawn aside,and through the interstices of the shutters came little gleams of light.Billy Kane shifted his grip upon his revolver--to the muzzle end. Thedoors opened a few inches cautiously. And then Karlin's voice:
"Who's there? What---"
But Billy Kane was in action now, and the words ended in a wild shout ofalarm. His left hand shot forward like a flash into the opening,wrenching the doors wide apart; and, lithe as a panther in its spring,he launched himself forward, and struck with the butt of his revolver,struck as he would have struck at a mad dog, full on Karlin's head.
There was a crash as the man went limply, senseless, to the floor, andanother cry, from Merxler now, and then, dazing Billy Kane for aninstant by the sudden and unexpected onslaught, Merxler had sprung andlocked his arms around him in a grip of steel. They crashed against thetable, upsetting it.
"Let go!" Billy Kane panted frantically. "The hall door--lock it! Youdon't understand!"
There was no answer from Merxler, save another hoarse shout for help.The boy was fighting like a demon. Here and there about the room theylurched, staggered, reeled, but Billy Kane was the stronger. It seemedonly by inches, but still by inches they were nearing the hall door.There was something of ghastly irony in this frenzied effort of the boyto bar his own road to safety; but there was something fine in it too,something that, even as he fought, found recognition in Billy Kane'smind. The boy, spendthrift though he might be, a fool with his moneythough he might be, was game to the core in standing by a man whom hebelieved to be his friend.
There was an uproar now from the interior of the house. There came therush of feet along the hall. Another instant and they would be at thedoor. Massing his strength for the effort, Billy Kane tore himself free,flung Merxler back, and plunged forward. The door was being opened now.He hurled his weight against it.
"Quick, Merxler! Quick! The inside pocket of Karlin's coat!" he gaspedout. "Quick!"
There was a yell of fury from the hall, as the door slammed shut, andBilly Kane turned the key--and then a crash upon it, and another, ashuman battering rams launched themselves madly against the panels. Overhis shoulder Billy Kane saw Merxler standing hesitant, glan
cing instupefaction alternately from the door to Karlin on the floor.
A panel cracked and splintered. Billy Kane's revolver roared like acannon shot through the room. The bullet, aimed low, ripped along thethreshold.
"Merxler, the inside pocket of Karlin's coat!" he said in deadly quiet."Man, are you mad! Hurry! They'll have us both in another minute!"
The revolver shot had checked the rush against the door for an instant,though only for an instant, but that instant was enough. Merxler, stunginto action, had leapt to Karlin's side, and was bending over the man.And then he was on his feet, staring wildly at the papers in his hand.
"Good God, what's this!" he cried out. "What's----"
"The French doors--the fence--run for it!" said Billy Kane tensely, andfired again. And the next instant the room was in darkness, as heswitched off the light; and in another, with Merxler running now besidehim, he had crossed the few feet of yard and was swinging himself overthe fence.
From behind came the rip and tear and smash of the yielding door,shouts, yells, oaths, a confusion of noises; but Billy Kane had reachedthe cross street now, and, pulling the mask from his face, jerking hishat brim far over his eyes, turned in the opposite direction from thatin which he had entered the lane, and, urging Merxler on, was running attop speed. At the next block they swerved again--and Billy Kane, with arestraining pressure on Merxler's arm, here dropped into a slower andless noticeable pace. There was little or no chance of pursuit now; noone, it seemed, had taken the immediate initiative of following theminto the lane, yet Billy Kane made a wide detour before he finallyreached his waiting taxi cab.
"Get in," he said to Merxler; and, crisply, to the chauffeur: "Drive asfast as you know how! Go up the street at the rear of The Purple Scarf!"
He followed Merxler into the cab.
Merxler drew his hand across his eyes in a dazed way, and laughednervously.
"I can't see your face now, and you had a mask on before," he saidjerkily. "This is a queer business! Who are you? What's it mean? Thosesecurities were in my safe an hour ago--how did they get into Karlin'spocket? What was he doing with them?"
"Stoop over!" said Billy Kane quietly. He handed Merxler the forgedletter, and flashed the ray of his lamp upon the paper.
His head bent forward, Merxler read the letter, and his face, alreadywhite under the ray, gradually took on a drawn, grayish pallor.
"I--I never wrote this," he faltered. "It's my handwriting, but I--Inever wrote it."
"Nor your uncle this," said Billy Kane, the same grim, quiet intonationin his voice, as he placed the will in turn in Merxler's hand.
The light played on the paper, and over Merxler's face. Billy Kane satdrawn back in the shadows.
There was moisture on Merxler's forehead, as he looked up after amoment.
"My God," he whispered hoarsely, "what does this mean?"
The flashlight was out. It was dark in the cab now, and the taxi rattledon traversing block after block. Billy Kane spoke swiftly, sketching theevents of the night. Merxler did not move, save that at the end his handsought and found and closed tight upon Billy Kane's arm.
It was Merxler in a new light who spoke.
"You've saved my life--and you haven't preached," he said slowly. "I'm afool! I've played the fool--they never would have tried to get away withit if I hadn't played the fool all my life. I guess perhaps I've had mylesson tonight. But fool, or not"--his voice rasped suddenly, bitterhard--"Karlin will pay for this, or----"
"You will--yet!" Billy Kane cut in grimly. "You know too much, and youhaven't a minute to lose. They lost their heads for a moment in theconfusion and the darkness when we got away, but their one hope now willbe to get you before you tell your story. They may figure that you willhesitate about telling it, as you would have to admit your presence atJerry's gambling hell--and they may figure that you wouldn't act anywaybefore morning. Do you understand? That's _their_ chance. Your chance isthe police without a second's delay--you may even get Karlin before heregains consciousness, or before they try to move him, if you're quickenough. I know your story will sound strange with an unknown man in amask running through it, but you have only to tell the truth. You haveall the evidence you need. The police will know the Chipper, who forgedthe papers; and the police will know how to make those fake witnesses tothe will squeal--it's a different proposition now with them than simplyappearing before Karlin and a notary public and swearing to thesignatures. Understand?"
"Yes," said Merxler tersely. "You're right--and I'll see it through. Butyou--you saved my life, and----"
"I get out here," said Billy Kane, and leaning forward suddenly, tappedsharply on the glass front. They had turned into the street that was notonly in the rear of The Purple Scarf, but was equally in the rear ofthat secret entrance into the Rat's lair. He held out his hand toMerxler. "Good-night, Merxler--I----"
"But," Merxler cried, as the taxi stopped, "I can't let you go likethis! I owe you too much. Who are you? What is your name? Where can Ifind you to----"
"I'm trying to find--myself," said Billy Kane, with grim whimsicality."Let it go at that!" He caught Merxler's hand in a hard grip."Good-night, Merxler--and good luck!" he said, and stepping quickly fromthe taxi, closed the door. He handed the chauffeur another bill. "Drivethis gentleman to police headquarters--fast!" he ordered, and, turning,moved swiftly away down the street, hugging the shadows again, avoidingthe rays of the street lamps.
He slipped into the lane, gained the shed, and from the shed made hisway through the underground passage to the secret door, listened hereintently for a moment, then stepped through into the Rat's room, andgroped forward toward the electric light that hung over the table.
It was strange! There was something almost mockingly ironic in it all!It was like the night before again. In peril himself as grave asMerxler's, he had saved Merxler--and his own peril remained, wasincreased even, for the inner circle of this crime world that ranked himas a trusted confederate would be aroused now to an unbridled pitch offury and excitement, seeking the unknown man in the mask who had foiledthem to-night. Suspicious as they would be of every one, he now had thatsuspicion to combat, and he could ill afford that a breath of it shouldtouch him. His all was at stake--Red Vallon, with the underworld at hisheels, was enlisted now in a hunt for those rubies, which, ifsuccessful, must inevitably discover too the identity of the man, ormen, who had murdered David Ellsworth, and who had driven him, BillyKane, into this damnable exile! It was paramount, vital, that he shouldpreserve his authority to keep the underworld at that work, the power tocommand, the----
Billy Kane switched on the electric light, and stood staring at thetable, grim faced, his jaws locked tight together, his hand like a flashseeking his revolver in his pocket. His eyes lifted, and swept aroundthe room. The swift, quick glance went unrewarded. The room wasapparently as he had left it. He crossed quickly to the street door. Itwas still locked.
Again his eyes searched the room. He remembered that she had spoken ofother secrets that the room possessed. What were they? Still anotherentrance? There was no sign of it! He knew only that someone had beenhere in his absence--and was now flaunting that visit in his face. Wasit mockery? A warning? What?
It could not have been Red Vallon, or any of his pack. It was almostcertain that Red Vallon had no knowledge of any secret entrance, andbesides it was too soon for Red Vallon. Was it the woman? He shook hishead. It was hardly likely, and his reason told him no--she had beenoutspoken enough that evening, and she had given no hint of _this_. Whothen? And what was its meaning? Was it grim mockery? A grimmer warning?What?
On the table, ostentatiously placed in full view, and identified beyondpossibility of mistake by a piece cut from the corner of the originalplush tray on which it and many of its fellows had rested, was one ofthe rubies stolen from David Ellsworth's vault!