CHAPTER X--MOLLY'S STORY
As soon as I had the notes of that 'phone message down I wrote a reportfor the Whitney office--just an outline--and posted it myself in thevillage. The answer with instructions came the following evening. Thenext time Miss Maitland went into town I was to come with her. In theconcourse of the Pennsylvania station I'd see O'Malley (the Whitneys'detective) and it would be my business to point her out to him. He wasto follow her and I to come to the office and make my full report. Saynothing of what I'd heard to Mrs. Janney.
That was Tuesday; Thursday was Miss Maitland's holiday and right alongshe'd been going into town. Wednesday afternoon I heard her say she'd goin as usual on the eight forty-five, tipped off the office by 'phone,and told Mrs. Janney I'd need that day to make a report to Mr.Whitney--a business formality that had to be observed.
Miss Maitland and I went in together, looking very sociable on theoutside, and talking about the weather, the new style in skirts, howflat Long Island was, and other such ladylike topics. Coming off thetrain I stuck to her like a burr, was almost arm in arm going up thestairs, and then in the concourse broke myself loose and faded awaytoward the news stand. Right there, leaning against the magazine end,I'd seen a large, fat, sloppy-looking man, with a tired panama hat backfrom his forehead, and a masonic emblem on his watch chain.
O'Malley was a first class worker in his line, and his appearance wasworth rubies. He'd a small-town, corner-grocery look that would havefooled any one unless they'd a scent for a sleuth like a dog for a bone.As I edged up near him, reaching out for a magazine, he cast a cold,disdainful glance at me like the rube that's wise to the dangers of thegreat city. I dragged a magazine out from behind his back and whispered,"In the lavender dress and the white hat with the grapes round it." Anddreamy, as if his thoughts were back with mother on the farm, he heavedhimself up from the stand and took the trail.
The Chief--that's my name for Mr. Whitney--and Mr. George were waitingfor me in the old man's office. Gee, it was great to be there again,like times in the past when we'd meet together and thrash out the lastfindings. Of course the Chief had to have his joke, holding me by theshoulders and cocking his head to one side as he looked into my face:
"My, my, Molly, but the country's put a bloom on you! What a pity it isyou're married or you might get one of those millionaires down there."
And I couldn't help answering fresh--he just sort of dares you to it:
"I won't say but what I might, Chief. But it's poor sport. Seeing whatthey've got to choose from it would be a shame to take the money."
Mr. George was impatient--he always gets bristly when things aremoving--and cut us off from our fooling when a sharp:
"Come on, Molly, sit down and let's hear the whole of this."
So I took up the white man's burden, told them all I'd seen and heardand picked up, ending off with the full notes of the 'phone talk. Then Ilaid the paper on the table and looked at them. The Chief was gazingthoughtfully at the floor, and Mr. George's face was puckered with afrown like he'd eaten a persimmon.
"It's the queerest thing I ever heard in my life," he said. "Chapman andthat girl! Why, it's impossible. Are you sure the man on the 'phone_was_ Chapman?"
"It must have been. He spoke of meeting me in the woods and Mr. Price isthe only man I ever met there."
The Chief looked up, glowering at me from under his big eyebrows:
"What's your opinion of this Maitland woman?"
"Well, I don't think there's anything wrong about her--I mean I'd neverget that impression from her general make-up. But before I tapped thatmessage, I did get a hunch that she was sort of abstracted and shut awayin herself. She'd lonesome habits and she'd look downhearted when shethought no one saw her. I'd size her up roughly as some one who wasn'teasy in her mind."
"Have you ever heard anything of her having any sort of affair orfriendship with Price?"
"Not a hint of it. That's what made me sit up and take notice. Undereverybody's eye the way they were and yet not a soul suspectinganything--you're not as secret as that for nothing."
"While they were talking on the 'phone did you notice anything in theirvoices--it certainly wasn't in the words--that suggested tenderness orlove?"
"No, it was more as if they knew each other well. He sounded as if hewas trying to jolly her along, keep up her spirits; and she as if shewas scared, not at _him_ but at what he might do."
"They'd be careful," said Mr. George. "A man and a woman who wereinvolved in some dangerous scheme wouldn't coo at each other over thewire like two turtle doves."
"Love's hard to hide," said the old man, "betrays itself in small ways.And Molly's got a fine, trained ear."
"Well, it caught no love there, Chief. The only person at Grasslandswho's got that complaint is Mrs. Price. She's in love with Mr.Ferguson."
Mr. George was very much surprised.
"The deuce you say!--Old Dick fallen at last."
The Chief gave a sort of sarcastic grunt.
"Ferguson can take care of himself. He's not as big a fool as he looksor pretends to be. Now these extra holidays of Miss Maitland's you'vespoken of--how long has that been going on?"
"Since April. Before that she never wanted time off and often spent herThursdays in the house. At Grasslands this summer she's gone into townevery Thursday and three times asked for extra days. The last was Julythe eighth, the day after the robbery."
"Umph!" muttered the old man. "I guess we'll know something about thatwhen we hear from O'Malley."
Mr. George, slumped down in his chair, with his hands thrust in hispockets, his chin pressed on his collar, said gloomily:
"I confess I'm dazed. It's perfectly possible that Chapman, who didn'tlike his wife, should have fallen in love with the girl, it's perfectlynatural that they should have kept it dark; but that he's joined withher in a plan to steal Mrs. Janney's jewels!"--he shook his head staringin front of him--"I can't get the focus. Price wouldn't qualify for aSunday school superintendent, but I can't seem to see him as a gentlemanburglar."
"He was mad when he left," I said. "He made a sort of scene."
"What's that?" growled the old man, looking up quick.
"He got angry and threatened them. I don't know just in what way becauseI've only caught it in bits and scraps. But Dixon heard him and told inthe village where I picked up an echo of it. He said they'd stolen hischild."
"Sounds like him--an ugly temper. Try and get exactly what he said ifyou can."
We talked on a while, going back and forth over it like a lawn mowerover grass. Then a knock on the door stopped us; a boy put in his headand announced:
"Mr. O'Malley's outside and wants to see Mr. Whitney."
Mr. George and I squared round in our chairs with our eyes glued on thedoorway. The Chief, slouched down comfortable with his shirt-bosombulging, looked like a sleepy old bear, but from under the jut of hiseyebrows his glance shone as keen as a razor. O'Malley entered, hot andred, his panama in his hand, and that air about him I've seen before--asuppressed triumph gleaming out through the cracks.
"Well?" says Mr. George, curt and sharp.
O'Malley took a chair and mopped his forehead:
"There's no mistake she's got something up her sleeve. She took theSeventh Avenue car and went downtown until she came to Jefferson Courthouse, got out there, went a few blocks into the Greenwich Villagesection and stopped at a house on a small sort of thoroughfare calledGayle Street. I think she let herself in with a key, but I'm not sure.The place is a shady-looking rookery, no porch or steps, door openingright on the sidewalk, three windows to each floor, mansard roof. Aboutten minutes after she went in, a man came down the street, walkingquick, hat low over his eyes--it was Mr. Chapman Price."
Mr. George stirred and gave a mutter. The old man, stretching his handto the cigar box at his elbow, took out a large fat cigar and said:
"Price, eh?--Go on."
"I thought the lady'd used a key, and I saw plain that he did. The dooropen
ed and he went in. I crossed over and looked at the bells. Therewere nine of them, all with names underneath except the top floor ones.These, the last three of the line, had no names, showing the top floorwas vacant.
"There was a drug store right opposite and I went in, took a soda, andasked the clerk about the locality--said I was looking for lodgings inthat section. I got him round to the house, where I heard I might get aroom cheap. He said maybe I could--being summer there'd bevacancies--that the place was decent enough, but he'd heard pretty poorand mean. Just as I got through talking to him and was leaving I saw thedoor across the street open, and Mr. Price come out. He came quick, onthe slant, and was among the folks on the sidewalk before you couldnotice. It was the way a man acts when he doesn't want to be seen. Hewalked off toward Seventh Avenue, his head down, keeping close to thehouses. I didn't wait for Miss Maitland--thought I'd better come backhere and report."
"Well!" said Mr. George. "I'm jiggered if I can make head or tail ofit."
The Chief took the cigar out of his mouth and addressed O'Malley:
"Find out Price's movements on the night of July seventh, everything hedid, everywhere he went." He turned to me. "And you want to remember nota hint of this gets to Mrs. Janney. She hates Price and when her blood'sup she's a red Indian. We don't want the family drawn in until we knowsomething."