XV--THE ALIBI
Twenty minutes later, having satisfied himself that the immediateneighborhood was free of passers-by for the moment, and that he had notbeen observed, he tried the street door of the tenement that had beenthe subject of Whitie Jack's earlier investigations. The door wasunlocked, and he stepped silently into the vestibule, and closed thedoor softly behind him.
He stood for a moment listening, and taking critical note of hissurroundings. A single incandescent burning here in the lower hallsupplied ample illumination. The stairs were directly in front of him,and on the right of the hallway. There was a closed door, also on theright and just at the foot of the stairs, and from behind this therecame the murmur of voices. There was no other sound.
He moved quietly forward, mounted the stairs, gained the landing, and,with more caution now, turned back along the hall, making for the dooron the right--Peters' door, according to Whitie Jack--that, if in thesame relative location as the one below, would be at the foot of thenext flight of stairs. A faint light came up through the stair well, butthe end of the hall itself beyond the second flight of stairs was inblackness. He nodded grimly in satisfaction. He would not need any lightto find Peters' door!
His lips pressed hard together. He had reached the door now, and now hecrouched against it, his ear to the panel. He listened intently. Asudden doubt came and tormented him and obsessed him. What, if by anychance Peters had someone with him! A bead of moisture oozed out on hisforehead, and he brushed it hurriedly away. He was not so callous now!Behind that door lay, literally, life and death; behind that door, if itproved necessary, he meant to take a man's life, a miserable life, itwas true, a murderer's life, a life that had no claim to mercy, butstill a man's life. Had he ever laid claim to being callous? But thatdid not mean that his resolution was being undermined. The issueto-night was clearly defined, ultimate, final, and he had accepted thatissue, and he would see it through. His lips relaxed a little in a smileof self-mockery. Well, suppose Peters were _not_ alone he, Billy Kane,had only to wait until the visitor conjured up by his doubts had gone.
He steadied himself with a mental effort. His nerves were getting alittle too high strung. To begin with, there wasn't anybody in therewith Peters. He would have heard voices if there had been, and he hadheard none. He glanced around him now, but the act was wholly one ofexaggerated caution. Here at the end of the hall he could see nothing.Opposite him was probably the door of the other apartment on this floorthat Whitie Jack had said was unoccupied. There was no fear ofinterruption. He took his automatic from his pocket, tried the doorcautiously, and finding it locked, knocked softly with his knuckles onthe panel.
There was no response. He knocked again, a little louder, moreinsistently. There was still no response. Billy Kane was gnawing at hisunder lip now. Not only had Peters no visitor, but even Peters himselfwas not there! Out of the darkness it seemed as though a horde ofmocking devils were suddenly jeering at him in unholy glee. He hadsomehow been very sure that everything to-night would go as he hadplanned, and, instead, there had been nothing so far but stark futility.
But the night was not ended yet! He thrust the automatic abruptly backinto his pocket. There was still time for Peters to come. It was only alittle after nine. And Peters would have a visitor after all--a visitorwaiting there inside that room for him!
Billy Kane drew Whitie Jack's bunch of skeleton keys from his pocket,and, crouching now low down in front of the door, inserted one of thekeys in the lock. It would not work. He tried another with the sameresult. He was not an adept at lock-picking as yet! He grinned withoutmirth at the mental reservation--and suddenly drew back from the door,retreating into the deeper blackness at the end of the hall. Here wasPeters now, and Peters would have much less trouble in opening the door!
Footsteps were ascending the stairs. A figure, in the murky light fromthe stair well, gained the landing, and came forward along the hall.Billy Kane's sudden smile held little of humor. It was not Peters. Itwas Whitie Jack's tenant of the third floor, Savnak, the old violinplayer, hugging his violin case under his arm, and as he came into theshadows, feeling out with his other hand for the banisters of the secondflight of stairs. Fifteen feet away, flattened against the wall, himselfsecure from observation, in the darkness, Billy Kane, in a sort of grimphilosophical resignation, watched what was now little more than ashadowy outline, as the other went on up the stairs to the third floor.
A door above slammed shut. Billy Kane returned to Peters' door. Again hetried a key, and still another, until, with a low-breathed ejaculationof satisfaction, he finally unlocked the door. He exchanged the keys forhis automatic once more; and once more his hand on the doorknob, he heldtense and motionless, listening. From below there came again the soundof footsteps on the stairs. It was Peters at last, probably; but, if itwas Peters, Peters was _not_ alone. The footsteps of two men were on thestairs.
Futility again! The door was unlocked, but it availed him nothing at allnow. He had meant to go in and wait for Peters, but it would be a foolplay from any angle to go in there now if Peters had anybody with him.Nor was there time to lock the door again. He had returned the bunch ofkeys to his pocket, and it would take a moment to sort out the rightone, and there was not that moment to spare. The footsteps were alreadyon the landing. Billy Kane drew back once more silently and swiftly tothe front of the hall. He was tight-lipped now. It seemed as thoughevery turn of the luck had gone against him. Peters was certain tonotice that the door was unlocked. What effect would that have onPeters? What would the man do, and----
Billy Kane was staring down the hall in a numbed, dazed way. Two men hadcome into the radius of light from the stair well, and were movingquickly along the hall in his direction. He brushed his hand across hiseyes. That little horde of devils were at their jeers of unholy mirthagain. Peters! There was no such man as Peters! Peters was a myth! Thewhole cursed night was a series of damnable hallucinations. This wasn'tPeters--it was Red Vallon, and Birdie Rose.
Out of the darkness he watched them, his mind fogged. What were theydoing here? Why had they become suddenly so quiet and stealthy as theywent up that second flight of stairs--where Savnak had gone!Savnak--Vetter--the diamonds--Red Vallon! He remembered the tribute paidto the Mole's cleverness, a tribute that, in his estimation as aneyewitness to the theft, had come far from being borne out in practice.Was there something that he had not seen, something behind that bald,crude scene which he had witnessed? His brain was stumbling on, groping,striving for understanding. He remembered the code message--the Mole wasto divert suspicion to someone else. Had the Mole in some way outwittedRed Vallon? Birdie Rose and Red Vallon obviously believed that the oldviolinist had the diamonds--there was no other possible explanation toaccount for their presence here hard on Savnak's trail. And if that wereso, it would go hard with Savnak, very hard, indeed, when, believingSavnak was lying, Red Vallon failed to secure the stones. Red Vallon wasnot a man to trifle with; Red Vallon was perhaps the most dangerous andunscrupulous gangster in New York, and----
Billy Kane was creeping forward, and mounting the stairs step by stepwith infinite caution. They had disappeared now into Savnak's room,presumably.
He had no choice, had he? The man-handling they would give Savnak wouldbe little short of murder. Murder! His lips tightened. There was to havebeen murder in that room below there--wasn't there? But that wasdifferent--one man was guilty, the other innocent. Much as it meant tohim to settle with Peters, he had no choice but to let that go to-nightnow, if necessary--to let it go, if necessary, until to-morrow, or untilhe could formulate some other plan, for it was not likely that he couldfrustrate Red Vallon now, and still be left quietly to return to areckoning with Peters.
His fingers closed in a sudden spasmodic clutch over the stock of hisautomatic. He had passed Peters' door, and left it unlocked, and Petersmight come in the meantime. Well, it didn't matter now! His own luck wasout! The night had done nothing but toss him hither and thither like ashuttlecock in mockery and spo
rt. And at the last fate had played himthis most scurvy trick of all. He could not stand aside and see aninnocent man left to the mercy of a devil like Red Vallon, and so,instead of playing Billy Kane to Peters, he was playing the man in themask to Red Vallon and Birdie Rose! And that jeering horde of imps outof the darkness were shrieking in his ears again!
He slid his mask over his face. He had reached the door over Peters'flat, which Whitie Jack had described as Savnak's. Red Vallon had failedto close it tightly behind him--perhaps unwilling to risk the chance ofany additional sound. It was slightly ajar. A dull glow of light, asthough from an inner room, seeped through the aperture. Came a sharp,startled exclamation, and then Red Vallon's voice, snarling viciously:
"Come on! Come across! And come--_quick_!"
Billy Kane pushed the door open inch by inch, and suddenly slipped intothe room. He was quite safe, providing he made no noise that wouldbetray his presence. Across from him, at an angle that kept him out ofthe line of light, was the open door of what was obviously the frontroom of the apartment. Savnak had evidently been flung violently downinto a chair; Birdie Rose's fingers were crooked, claw-like, within aninch of the violinist's throat; and Red Vallon, leaning on a table infront of the two, was leering at Savnak in ugly menace. Savnak wasspeaking, low and earnestly, but Billy Kane could not catch the man'swords. Red Vallon interrupted the other with scant ceremony.
"Can that!" he snarled. "It don't go! That stagehand of yours ain't gotthe goods--_you_ got 'em. We're wise to your game. We know you, Birdieand me, and you know we know it. How long you been cultivating the oldDutchman, and waiting for something worth while like to-night to breakloose? Pinochle and a violin! Pretty nifty, that violin stunt! It helpeda lot--we got in the same as that boob of yours did--while you wasmaking enough noise fiddling to let an army in without being heard.Sure, you got a tricky nut on your shoulders, all right! It's too bad,though, you don't know enough not to stack up against a better crowd!And the guy turned out the gas to help him in his get-away, did he? Yes,he did--like hell! That's where he slipped you the sparklers, old bucko!Well, we've got your number, ain't we? We hung around after that to giveyou a chance to finish out the play. We're with you there! Nothing suitsus better than to have the police chasing some guy they don't know, andthat ain't got the white ones anyhow! Come on now, come across!"
Billy Kane, like a man bewildered, mentally stunned, stood theremotionless. A singsong refrain repeated itself crazily over and overagain in his brain: "Savnak was the Mole! Savnak was the Mole!" Helifted his hand and swept it across his eyes. Savnak's face in there inthat room was working in a sort of livid fury. Yes, of course--Savnakwas the Mole. It was quite clear now, quite plain--and the Mole was notlacking quite so much after all in craft and cunning! So Red Vallon hadbeen in Vetter's, too, had he? There came a sudden, grim set to BillyKane's lips. Well, at least, the diamonds were _here_ now!
Savnak was speaking again.
"Who put you wise to this?" he demanded sullenly.
"I dunno!" said the gangster indifferently. "I got orders, that's all.Mabbe some of our crowd piped you off making your play with Dutchyduring the last month, and figured two and two made twenty-three--foryou; or mabbe one of your own bunch whispered out loud. I dunno! Are youcoming across without getting hurt, or aren't you?"
Billy Kane was moving softly toward the inner door. Savnak hadapparently regained his composure. He looked from one to another of hiscaptors, and forced a smile.
"Look here," he said ingratiatingly, "we're all in this. Suppose we playfair. I'm willing to split."
"D'ye hear that, Birdie?" jeered Red Vallon, with a nasty laugh. "Hewants a split! Well, give him one--mabbe it'll help him to get a moveon! Twist his pipes a little more--that's the sort of split he won'targue over!"
Birdie Rose's two hands closed with a quick, ugly jerk on Savnak'sthroat. There was a gurgling cry.
"Wait!" Savnak choked out. "Wait! It's--it's all right, boys." He rubbedhis throat, as Birdie Rose released him. "I know when I'm beaten." Heshrugged his shoulders in a sort of philosophically fatalistic way, and,reaching into his inside coat pocket, threw Vetter's chamois pocketbookdown on the table.
"That's the stuff!" grunted Red Vallon maliciously. "But seeing it'syou, we'll just take a look at it to make sure you're _honest_!" Hepicked up the pocketbook, opened it, nodded and chuckled over thegleaming array of diamonds, and closed the pocketbook again. "Well, Iguess that'll be all for to-night, _Mister_ Savnak, and----" His wordsended in a sudden gasp.
Billy Kane was standing in the doorway, his automatic covering the men.
"Don't move, please, any of you!" Billy Kane's voice, grufflyunrecognizable, was facetiously debonair.
Birdie Rose's face had gone a pasty white; Savnak, hunched in his chair,stared helplessly; Red Vallon, his jaw dropped, still holding thepocketbook, found his voice.
"The man in the mask!" he mumbled.
"I was a little late for the tombola myself at Vetter's to-night," saidBilly Kane coolly. "I understand you were all there. I only got as faras the back yard when the gathering broke up, and I was a littledisappointed because I had a hunch that I held the winning number.However, if you, there, with the pocketbook, whatever your name is, willjust toss the prize over here, I'm willing to overlook any slightirregularity there might have been in the drawing."
Red Vallon did not answer.
The muzzle of Billy Kane's automatic lifted to a level with thegangster's eyes.
"Did you hear me?" The facetiousness was gone from Billy Kane now. Hisvoice rasped suddenly. "_Toss it over!_"
With an oath, Red Vallon flung the pocketbook over the table.
Billy Kane caught it deftly with his left hand.
"Thank you!" said Billy Kane politely. He tucked the chamois case intohis pocket, and reached out for the doorknob. "I think that isall--gentlemen," he said softly; "except to wish you--good-night!"
In a flash he had shut the door upon them, and, turning, was runningacross the outer room. But Red Vallon, too, was quick. Before Billy Kanereached the door leading into the hall, he heard the window of the frontroom flung up--and Red Vallon's voice:
"Quick, boys, come in! The man in the mask! Head him off! Jump for it!He's going downstairs!"
Billy Kane's jaws clamped hard, as he swung through the door to the headof the stairs. It was true! He remembered that Red Vallon had said hehad some of his gang with him. He could hear them now. They were runninginto the lower hall; and, though he was taking the stairs three and fourat a time, they would meet on the lower staircase, if he kept on. Hisescape was cut off. There was only one chance--Peters' door--it wasunlocked--Peters' door, before Red Vallon above opened the door ofSavnak's flat and saw him.
It had been a matter of seconds, no more; but seconds that had seemed ofinterminable duration. He was at the foot of the stairs now. Came thepound of approaching feet from below. Red Vallon, whether because he hadnot had time, or because he was wary of a trap, had not opened the doorinto the hall above yet. Billy Kane, cautious of any sound, slippedthrough the door into Peters' flat, half drew back in suddendismay--then grimly closed the door behind him softly, and, working withdesperate haste now, and still silently, took out his skeleton keys andlocked it. He turned, then, with his automatic flung out in front ofhim--and faced toward the door that opened on his left. He knew it, ofcourse! But it had been too late to turn back. He was doubly trapped!His lips, thinned, curved in a bitter smile. If there was any murder tobe done here in this flat to-night, it was likely now to be his own--notPeters'! _There was a light in that room!_ Peters must have come inwhile he, Billy Kane, was upstairs. He was between two fires. A cry, anyalarm given by Peters, would bring Red Vallon and his blood-fanged packbursting through that door behind him. Was Peters deaf? True, he, BillyKane, had slipped as silently through the door as he could, and hadlocked it as silently as he could, but he must have made some noise!
Feet raced by in the hall, and went thumping up the stairs. It wasstrange t
hat Peters had not heard him! It was stranger still that Petersdid not hear the commotion now that Red Vallon's pack was making!
Billy Kane moved forward stealthily until he could see into the lightedroom--and stood suddenly still. He felt the blood leave his face. Helifted his hand to his eyes in a queer, jerky, horrified motion; andthen, with a low cry, he ran forward into the other room. The place wasin confusion. It was a bedroom, and bureau drawers had been wrenched outand thrown around; every possible receptacle that might have concealedthe smallest object had been ransacked and looted, and the contentsstrewn in wild disorder everywhere about--and on the floor a man laysprawled, dead, murdered, a brutal wound in the side of his head from ablow that had apparently fractured the skull.
He knelt for a moment over the man. It was Peters. He rose, then, andstood there, fighting to rouse his brain from blunted torpor, to forceit to resume its normal functions. Peters had been lying here dead, allthe time that he, Billy Kane, had been waiting outside there in thehall! It must have taken quite a little while to have accomplished thismurder and ransack the room. Peters, therefore, must have left theEllsworth house earlier than usual, since the murderer, allowing for thelength of time he would have required for his work, must have completedit and made his escape before he, Billy Kane, had arrived here at nineo'clock. It was very strange, horribly strange--to _find_ Petersmurdered! Who was it, who had done it? Who was it, other than himself,who could have had any motive? What did it mean? What was it that Petershad had here, that had been the object of such a frantic search? BillyKane drew his breath in suddenly, sharply. What could it be save _one_thing! The Ellsworth rubies! That was it, wasn't it--_rubies_!
A sound from somewhere out in the hall brought surging back upon him arealization of his own imminent peril. There must be some way out, hemust find a way. If he knew Red Vallon at all, he knew that he, BillyKane, would never leave by the door! Well, a fire escape then, perhaps!
Quick now, every faculty alert, he ran noiselessly from room to room,and from window to window. He returned a moment later to the hall door,his face a little harder set and strained. There was no escape by thewindows. There was nothing, except an increasing sound of disturbancethat seemed to be affecting all parts of the house. Nothing, save RedVallon's voice just outside the door, talking, evidently, to some of hismen:
"He _ain't_ got out--and he ain't going to get out till we've searchedevery flat in the place! He's most likely on this floor, and Birdie andme'll tackle this door here first; but you go down there and tell thosepeople below to shut up their row, and some of you look through theirrooms. Beat it!"
Footsteps scurried away. The doorknob was tried. Billy Kane's lips werea thin line. There was no physical way of escape. Was there a way ofwits? His wits against Red Vallon's! He stood there motionless, a queer,grim look creeping into his face, as the door now was shaken violently.And then, suddenly, he jerked his mask from his face, and thrust it intohis pocket. Yes, there was a way, but a way that held a something ofghastly, abysmal irony in it. He could prove an alibi--he had a witnessto it.
The door quivered, but held, under a crashing blow. Then Red Vallon'sgrowling voice:
"Get out of the road, Birdie, and let me at it! I'll bust it in!"
And then Billy Kane spoke.
"Is that you, Red?" he demanded harshly.
There was a surprised gasp from the hall without, a second's tensesilence, and then Red Vallon's voice again, heavy with perplexity andamazement:
"Who in hell are you?"
Billy Kane unlocked the door, flung it open, and stepped back. The hallhad been lighted now, evidently to facilitate Red Vallon's search, andthe light fell full upon Billy Kane through the doorway.
"The Rat!" The gangster's little red-rimmed eyes blinkedhelplessly--then suddenly narrowed. "What are you doing here?"
"You fool!" snarled Billy Kane angrily. "I thought I recognized yourvoice! You gave me a scare! What are you doing here? What's all thiscursed noise about?"
"What's it about?" repeated Red Vallon mechanically. He spokeautomatically, as though through force of habit at the Rat's command."The Mole lives upstairs. He got those diamonds from Vetter; then Birdieand me took 'em from him, and not five minutes ago that blasted man inthe mask turned the trick on us, and"--his voice changed with a jerk,and became suddenly truculent--"it's _damned_ funny where he got to!"
"Come in here, both of you!" ordered Billy Kane peremptorily. "Come inhere, and shut that door! Now"--as they obeyed him--"that's the story,is it, Red? Well, listen to mine!" His voice grew raucous, menacing,unpleasant. "This is the second time to-night you've run foul of myplans with your infernal diamonds and your piker hunts, and if troublecomes from this, look out for yourself! Five minutes ago, you said.Well, I wish he'd beaned you while he was at it! You've put an _hour's_work of mine to the bad! How long do you think this disturbance is goingon, before the police butt in? Take a look in that room, there!"
The two men took a step forward, and shrank suddenly back. Birdie Rose'sface had gone gray. He looked wildly at Billy Kane.
"My Gawd!" whispered Red Vallon.
"I said something to you to-night about needing an object lesson, sothat it would sink into you that when I said the limit I meant it," saidBilly Kane evenly. "Well, you've got it now! Do you know who that manis?"
Red Vallon shook his head. Birdie Rose was nervously plucking at apackage of cigarette papers that he had drawn from his pocket.
"His name is Peters," said Billy Kane curtly. "Peters was the butler atEllsworth's. Jackson's pal. Get me? I found this"--the ruby, from hisvest pocket, was lying now in the open palm of Billy Kane's hand. "Doyou understand what 'limit' means now, Red? I found this. He wouldn'ttalk, and so----" Billy Kane shrugged his shoulders coolly, and his handjerked forward, pointing to the disordered room. "I hadn't found anymore of them when you messed it up with your noise."
Red Vallon circled his lips with his tongue.
"Let's get out of here!" he said hoarsely.
"We'll have to now, thanks to you!" snapped Billy Kane shortly. "That'sthe only room that's been searched, and you've queered any chance ofdoing anything more now." He whirled impetuously on Red Vallon, andshook his fist in the gangster's face. "You see what you've done! Evenif the police haven't got wise to the row, those people in theapartments downstairs will call them in the minute they get a chance.Yes, we've got to beat it! You and your diamonds are likely to give us aride by the juice route up in that little armchair in Sing Sing. If yourman gets away it's a small matter now. Anybody that's caught here willhave to stand for--_this_. You go first, Birdie, and call the crowd off,and _scatter_ the minute you're outside the house. I don't want itpublished in the papers that I was with Peters in his expiring moments!Tumble? I can trust you two, because"--Billy Kane's smile wasunhappy--"if anything leaks, I'll know _where_ it leaked from! Get theidea? Now, beat it, Birdie! We'll give you a couple of minutes ahead ofus."
The man went out. Billy Kane walked coolly to the door, took theskeleton key from the inside of the lock, and fitted it again to theoutside.
"Come on, Red!" he said.
He locked the door, and put the bunch of keys in his pocket. It wascomparatively quiet in the house now. A door of one of the lowerapartments opened cautiously, but closed instantly again, as Billy Kane,with the gangster beside him, went down the stairs. In another momentthey were out on the street, and had turned the first corner.
The gangster was muttering to himself:
"There's Birdie and me. But Savnak won't dare let a peep out of him,'cause he was in on the diamond pinch himself. I'll get that guy withthe mask yet, if I swing for it. Spilled every blasted bean in thebag--that's me!" His voice took on a sudden, half cringing, halfdeferential note. "It wasn't my fault, Bundy--honest! You know that! Youain't sore, are you, Bundy?"
Billy Kane pushed his hat to the back of his head. The night air wascool, even crisp, but his hatband was wringing wet. He brushed his damphair back from his forehead. It was s
trange that he should have murderedPeters, after all!
He answered gruffly.
"Forget it!" said Billy Kane, alias the Rat.