XIV--THE ROBBERY
It was not far to Vetter's place, but--Billy Kane looked at his watchunder a street lamp--it was later than she had said. It was ten minutesof eight. He knew where Vetter's was. That point presented nodifficulties; he could hardly have spent the months he had amongst thequeer, heterogeneous lives of the East Side without knowing at leastthat much about so outstanding a character as the old Holland diamondmerchant--but that was quite another matter from knowing where the oldHollander domiciled his diamonds!
Billy Kane frowned, as he went along. Well, was it necessary to stealthe diamonds? That task, on the face of it, was so almost practicallyimpossible as to render it bizarre. He had nothing to work on, noinformation, just the cool suggestion that he should steal the diamonds_first_; and, under ordinary circumstances, he might well be filled withdismay at the prospect of failure in view of the threat which she heldover his head, though that side of it need not, and did not, concern himto-night. In a few hours from now he no longer expected to be the Rat;in a few hours Peters would have had his choice between losing his lifeand telling the truth, and under those conditions there was very littleroom for doubt but that Peters would have told--the truth. If, however,he could meanwhile save the old Hollander from loss, he, Billy Kane, wasquite ready to go to almost any length to do so.
He went on at a quick pace, traversing block after block. He smiledironically to himself, as he finally turned a corner, and with morecaution now, approached a low frame building that was bordered by a darkand narrow lane. Yes, it was bizarre enough! He could not very wellinform the police himself! The Rat--and particularly Billy Kane--was notat the moment on speaking terms with the police! But was it necessary tosteal the diamonds?
Her idea, of course, was that then they would be absolutely safe fromany attempt, or, perhaps what she feared most, physical coercion on thepart of the Mole--even if Vetter were given a warning.
But surely Vetter could take care of himself if he were warned! He,Billy Kane, certainly preferred that method! But, even that, as analternative, was not quite so simple as it appeared. He was still theRat. He did not know the plan this so-called Mole had evolved, and, morevital still, he did not know how closely Red Vallon was, in turn,watching the Mole. It was eight o'clock now, and any or all of themmight already be here. If he, Billy Kane, were discovered there wouldnever be that little interview with Peters! The corollary wasself-evident. Even for the purpose of warning the man, to reach Vetterinside this house here, that he was just passing, demanded the samedegree of caution and secrecy on his part as though he entered for thepurpose of stealing the stones himself. Also the little shop that madethe front of the building was closed and dark. Vetter's living quarters,he had heard, which was one of the eccentricities that had made the mana talked-of character on the East Side, consisted of no more than asingle room, serving for every purpose, at the rear of the shop itself.He did not dare take the risk of inviting attention by rapping andbringing the old Hollander to the door.
He turned, and retracing his steps, sauntered nonchalantly along, passedby the house again--and slipped into the lane. Circumstances, as hefound them, alone could govern his actions.
Billy Kane took stock now of the surroundings. The frame building was anold affair, and the floors therefore would be outrageously creaky. BillyKane scowled. The prospect of creaky floors and protesting boards wasnot a pleasant one. And then the scowl vanished, and a smile flickeredacross his lips. From somewhere at the back of the house there camesuddenly the throbbing notes of a violin. The smile broadened. That wasSavnak, doubtless, and, for the moment at least, it was the violin,rather than pinochle, that was engaging the two men. Personally, underthe circumstances, he, Billy Kane, was very much in favor of the violin.The violin would help a good deal--if it became a question of creakyfloors!
He moved silently forward now farther into the lane, keeping close tothe wall in the darker shadows of the house. The old Hollander and hiscrony were obviously in the back room. He glanced sharply up and downthe length of the building. He could see nothing. It was intensely dark.The wall of the house was blank. There were no windows opening on thelane.
An expression, grimly quizzical, settled on his face. It was a queersetting for a robbery, this unpretentious, even tumble-down, littleshop, with its back-room living quarters! But the unpretentiousness ofthe old Hollander's surroundings in no way argued poverty! He had knownof Vetter by reputation, quite apart even from any connection with theEast Side. The man had a clientele among the best in the city. He was anauthority on diamonds. He dealt only in the choicest stones, and he wasabsolutely reliable and honest. The world of fashion had made a path toVetter's door, not he to theirs. In this ten-thousand-dollarconsignment, for instance, there would probably not be more than fiftyor sixty stones, not enough to make a small handful, but not one ofthem, probably, would be worth less than a hundred dollars, and most ofthem would be worth a great deal more.
Billy Kane reached the end of the building, and found that a boardfence, some seven or eight feet high, continued on down the lane,obviously enclosing the back yard of the place. The violin throbbed on.The notes came clear and sweet, entirely unmuffled now, as though froman open window. He stood there for a moment listening. The playing wasexquisite. It was some plaintive, haunting melody given life by a mastertouch. He remembered Whitie Jack's description of the expatriatedmusician. Without question Savnak could "fiddle"; the man, in spite ofhaving come a moral cropper, was, if he, Billy Kane, were any judge,little short of a genius.
Glancing sharply about him once more, Billy Kane, with a lithe spring,caught the top of the fence, and drew himself cautiously up until hecould peer over. He hung there motionless for a moment. A few yards awayfrom him, in a slightly diagonal direction, and between himself and theback door, was the window of the rear room; and, as he had suspected,the window was open. He could see inside; that is, in a restrictedsense. A man, it was Savnak of course, chin on his violin, standing, wasswaying gently to and fro on his feet to the tempo of the music, hisback to the window; and at the table, side face to the window, but withhis back toward Billy Kane, Vetter, the old Hollander, white-haired, satrapt in attention, staring at the violinist.
Billy Kane drew himself further up, and straddled the fence. Theposition of the two men rendered him safe from observation. The notes ofthe violin, in a tremolo, died softly away. The old Hollander dug hisknuckles across his eyes; and his words, spoken in perfect English,evidently the language common to the two men of diverse nationalities,reached Billy Kane distinctly:
"You are wonderful, my old friend Savnak. It is divine. My friend, youare wonderful."
The violinist shrugged his shoulders.
"Once," he said, "I could really play. Yes, I tell you, you who willbelieve me, that I could sway the people, that I could do with them as Iwould, that I----" He stopped abruptly, and shrugged his shouldersagain. "But what is the use of memories? Memories! They are bad! Theyleave a bad taste! Let us forget them! You were to show me the greatpurchase that arrived to-day."
"These!" The old Hollander took from his pocket what looked like a soft,pliable, chamois-skin pocketbook, which he opened and laid on the table,disclosing a cluster of gems that, nesting on a snowy bed of wadding,sparkled and scintillated as the rays of the gas jet above the tablefell upon them; and then, impulsively closing the pocketbook again, hepushed it a little away from him. "They can wait!" he said. "By and by,we will look at them one by one. But they do not feed the soul, mySavnak, like your music. Play some more. They are not worth one of yournotes."
"Are they not?" Savnak's voice seemed tinged with bitterness. "The soulmay be well fed, Vetter, but that does not keep one often enough fromtightening the belt! I think I would be fortunate to make theexchange--my gift, such as it is, for your diamonds."
"You do not mean what you say!" the old Hollander replied, shaking hishead reprovingly. "I know better! But I do not like to hear you talklike that. Things are not so bad with you now. You are m
oody. Play somemore, my friend."
"As you will!" Again Savnak shrugged his shoulders. He nestled his chinon the violin. "It will be something gay, then, and lively--eh,Vetter?--to chase the blue devils away."
The notes of the violin rose again. Billy Kane began to lower himselffrom the fence into the backyard. His mind was made up now. Since therewere two of them there, a warning surely was all that was necessary. Thewindow was not much more than shoulder high from the ground, and he had,then, only to cross the yard and call to Vetter through the window. Hisappearance there would no doubt startle and alarm the old Hollander halfout of his wits, but that was exactly what would cause the man to guardhis diamonds all the more zealously for the rest of the night. Oncewarned, the two men in there between them ought certainly to be able totake care of themselves and that chamois pocketbook.
Billy Kane dropped softly to the ground, straightened up, took a stepforward--and stopped as though rooted to the spot. There had come a cryfrom Vetter. The violin broke off with a jerky, high-pitched, screamingnote. Then silence. Billy Kane raised himself on tiptoes. He could justsee in through the window; no more. It seemed like some picture flashedon a cinema screen, quick, instantaneous. A third man, hat drawn farover his face, was standing by the table, covering Vetter and Savnakwith a revolver. The man snatched up the chamois pocketbook, reachedabove his head, turned out the gas--and the room and window were inblackness.
It had happened with the suddenness and swiftness of a lightning flash,so quick that the brain stumbled a little in a dazed way in an effort tograsp its significance. And then Billy Kane wrenched his automatic fromhis pocket. The thief, when or in whatever way he had got into thehouse, must necessarily make his escape either by the front door, or bythe back door and through the yard here. If it were the latter, whichseemed the more likely, he, Billy Kane, had the man at his mercy; if itwere the former, the man would probably reach the street, in any case,before he, Billy Kane, could get over the fence and rush down the lane.
Billy Kane was moving swiftly in the direction of the back door. He hadto choose one way or the other. He could not attempt to guard both exitsat the same time! If the man----
Vetter's voice rose in a furious cry from the room:
"It is by the front, Savnak, he has gone! Quick! I hear him going out!Quick! The street!"
"Yes! Quick! The street!" Savnak, like a parrot, in a shrill, hystericalvoice, was echoing the other's words. "Quick! Chase him! And shout forthe police!" A chair fell over. The two men were evidently flounderingtheir way to the door. "Curse him for turning out the light!"
Billy Kane whirled, and dashed for the fence. As he straddled the top,he saw a figure, thrown into relief on the lighted street, speed pastthe head of the lane--and then, with a wry smile at a sudden realizationof his own impotence, he dropped to the lane, and, instead of runningnow, made his way slowly and cautiously forward, hugged close againstthe wall. If he ran out of the lane into the arms of Vetter and Savnak,besides hampering the pursuit by distracting their attention from thefugitive, he invited the decidedly awkward and very natural suspicion ofbeing connected with the thief himself; and the police would be very aptto listen with their tongues in their cheeks to any explanation that theRat might offer to account for his presence in the lane at thatparticular moment! And if there was any one thing that he wished toavoid to-night, it was a complication with the police that wouldinevitably interfere with his freedom of action during the next fewhours.
Came a wild cry now from both Vetter and Savnak from the front of thehouse; and then the two men, yelling at the top of their voices, bothhatless, Savnak, apparently unconscious in his excitement that he wasbrandishing his violin frantically in one hand and his bow in the other,tore madly down the street in pursuit of their quarry.
Billy Kane slipped out to the street. Doors of tenements and houses werebeginning to open; heads were beginning to be thrust out through upperwindows; the street was beginning to assume a state of pandemonium. Ablock down, the quarry, well in the lead of the old Hollander and theviolinist, leaped suddenly into a waiting automobile, and vanishedaround the corner.
Billy Kane turned away. He felt a curiously chagrined resentment againstthis so-called Mole, that was quite apart from his angry resentment ofthe fact that the old Hollander had been victimized. He had expectedsomething quite different from the Mole! Red Vallon--and she, too--hadgiven the Mole a reputation for cleverness, craft and cunning; but,instead of having shown any cleverness, or even a shred of originality,the Mole, or his minion, had perpetrated nothing more than a bald, crudetheft that any house-breaker, or broken-down old "lag" could have pulledoff with equal lack of finesse! Well, anyway, for the moment so far ashe was concerned, the affair was at an end, and he could only awaitdevelopments. It all hinged on Red Vallon now--on Red Vallon, whoproposed in turn to rob the robber--on Red Vallon, who, later on, wouldkeep an appointment with him, Billy Kane, in the Rat's den!
As he turned a corner, Billy Kane consulted his watch. It was stillearly, just a trifle after eight--too early for that interview withPeters yet. He might as well go back to Two-finger Tasker's then. It wasscarcely likely that _she_ was still there, but, if she were, so muchthe better! She could hardly hold him responsible for failure; and, inany case, she would realize that there was still the chance ofrecovering the stones by, in turn again, outwitting Red Vallon, if thegangster had been successful. If she were not there, Two-finger Tasker'swas as good a place as any in which to put in the time.
He reached the dance hall, and found, as he had half expected, that shehad already gone. He sat down at a table, ordered something from thewaiter, and, apparently absorbed in the dancers, who had now begun togather, he made a sort of grimly-reassuring inventory of his equipmentfor the night's work that still lay ahead of him--his mask, hisautomatic, Whitie Jack's skeleton keys, were in his pockets. His lipstwisted in a curious smile. The Mole, Vetter, the diamonds, the oldviolinist--all these seemed suddenly extraneous, incidents thrust uponhim, dragged irrelevantly into his existence. They sank intoinconsequential obtrusions in the face of the stake for which he was nowabout to play: his freedom, a clean name again, the end of this devil'stormenting masquerade, his life or, perhaps, another man'slife--Peters'?
Half an hour passed. Once more he looked at his watch. A few minuteslater he consulted it again. And then at a quarter to nine he rose fromthe table, and left Two-finger Tasker's resort.