Read Penny Nichols and the Black Imp Page 14


  CHAPTER XIV

  The Mysterious Agent

  Penny listened calmly to the woman's tirade, making no move to obey theimpolite command.

  "I am sorry, Mrs. Dillon," she said, "but I do not intend to leave thishouse until you have answered my questions."

  "I shall call my servant. You are an insolent, impudent girl!"

  "I should advise you not to call anyone until we have talked together,"Penny said undisturbed. "After all, you know I have it in my power tocause your arrest."

  Mrs. Dillon grew pale. "What do you mean?" she demanded.

  "It is useless to pretend. I know that you bought the Rembrandt andhave it secreted in your library. Unless you tell me where youpurchased the painting, I shall feel it my duty to go to the police."

  "And if I do tell you?"

  "Perhaps I can help you. You should be able to escape arrest for theRembrandt isn't genuine."

  As she had anticipated, her words brought an astonished glint into Mrs.Dillon's eyes. Without thinking she exclaimed:

  "The painting is genuine. I paid----"

  "How much did you pay for it?" Penny questioned, smiling at Mrs.Dillon's confusion.

  "Well, since you seem to be so familiar with my private affairs, Isuppose I shall have to tell you all about it. The painting is genuineand I bought it with the sole intention of returning it to the museum."

  Penny made no comment, although she did not believe a word of thestory. Mrs. Dillon was only trying to build up a defense for herself.

  "How much did you pay for the picture?" she repeated, determined to tiethe woman to facts.

  "Two thousand dollars," Mrs. Dillon answered grudgingly. "But that isonly the first payment. The next installment will soon be due."

  Penny thought exultingly: "If Mrs. Dillon will only cooperate, itshould be possible to catch the dealer who cheated her." Aloud shesaid: "Then you will see the dealer again--the man from whom youpurchased the picture?"

  "Not the dealer. His agent."

  "Tell me the name of the persons from whom you bought the painting."

  "I can't."

  "You are unwilling to do so, you mean?"

  "I don't know the dealer's name. I never dealt with him personally."

  "You bought the picture through a third party?"

  "Yes, and the agent is very well known to me. A gentleman of highstanding."

  Penny could not restrain a smile. She had her own opinion of a man whowould negotiate a deal for a stolen painting.

  "Who is this agent, Mrs. Dillon?"

  "That I cannot tell you. I promised never to reveal his name."

  "But it is your duty to do so," Penny urged. "I have every reason tobelieve that this man has cheated you."

  "I will not give his name," Mrs. Dillon repeated firmly.

  "He is a special friend of yours?"

  "Perhaps."

  "I appreciate your motive in trying to shield him," Penny said, "butthe matter is serious. This man has sold you a worthless picture,representing it to be a stolen Rembrandt."

  "The painting is genuine," Mrs. Dillon insisted. "I have proof of it."

  "What proof, may I ask?"

  "The picture was viewed by an expert--a man whose judgment I trustimplicitly. He assured me that it was genuine."

  "This expert looked at your picture since it was delivered to thehouse?"

  "No, at the studio."

  "What studio?" Penny asked quickly.

  "I will tell you if you promise not to betray me to the police."

  "I came here today because I wanted to help you, Mrs. Dillon. I haveno intention of going to the authorities if it can be avoided."

  "The studio is on Franklyn Street," the woman informed. "On an upperfloor."

  "Do you have the exact number of the building?" Penny asked quickly.

  "Yes, somewhere."

  Mrs. Dillon went to her desk and after examining a number of papersfound an old envelope upon which she had written the address. Pennyglanced at it and a look of disappointment came over her face.

  "Oh, this clue will do no good!" she exclaimed. "I know about thisplace. The men have gone. They moved out last night--secretly."

  The address was the same building which Penny had investigated thatafternoon.

  "Can you describe the person or persons whom you met in the studio?"

  Mrs. Dillon shook her head.

  "I did not meet the men personally. My friend took me there and showedme the picture."

  "This same expert to whom you referred?"

  "Yes."

  "And yet you feel that his judgment was unbiased?"

  "I do," Mrs. Dillon maintained loyally, "but I did not depend entirelyupon his opinion. I am a very good judge of pictures myself."

  "Has it occurred to you that possibly you did not receive the samepainting which you purchased? I understand that sometimes art thievesprey upon innocent buyers by showing them a genuine picture and thendelivering into their hands only a cheap copy."

  "I am too shrewd to be so easily duped," Mrs. Dillon retorted. "Idon't mind telling you that I protected myself against just suchtrickery."

  "How?"

  "When I viewed the picture and satisfied myself as to its quality, Imarked the back of the canvas with a tiny symbol. In that way you see,another painting could not be substituted, for the marking would beabsent."

  "The symbol might be duplicated."

  "No, I would instantly detect the difference."

  Penny sat lost in thought for a moment. She now understood thesignificance of the strange marking on the back of the Rembrandt whichhad puzzled Amy and herself. Was it possible that the Coulter girl hadbeen mistaken in the quality of the painting?

  "Mrs. Dillon," she said after a long silence, "you confidently believethat your painting is the same one which was stolen from the GageGalleries?"

  "All I know is that my picture is a genuine Rembrandt. I did not learnthat a picture had been stolen from the museum until after I had mademy purchase. I do not know even now that I have this same painting."

  "In the event that it is the same, you wish to return it to the museum?"

  Mrs. Dillon glared at Penny in frank dislike. She had been fairlytrapped and knew it.

  "Of course," she replied coldly. "I hope you do not think I wouldintentionally keep stolen property?"

  "I thought you would see it that way," Penny declared, smiling. "Andwith your cooperation, the police should be able to capture the realculprits."

  "What do you want me to do?"

  "When will you see this agent with whom you dealt?"

  "He is coming either today or tomorrow for the second payment."

  "I don't need to advise you to refuse to give him any more money. ButI wish you would try to learn from him the names of the originaldealers who handled the picture."

  "I'll try to find out."

  "And another thing, Mrs. Dillon. You must notify the Gage Galleriesimmediately that you have the Rembrandt."

  The woman made no response.

  "You will do that?" Penny asked.

  "Yes," Mrs. Dillon answered harshly.

  "I'll see you again tomorrow," Penny said, arising to depart. "Untilthen you have my promise that I will not talk with the police."

  "I have nothing to fear from them," Mrs. Dillon announced proudly.

  "Not if you show a willingness to cooperate," Penny agreed. "When youthink the matter over, I believe you will decide to reveal the name ofyour friend--the agent who negotiated the sale."

  She waited an instant, hoping that Mrs. Dillon would reconsider. Whenthe woman did not speak, she turned and walked from the living room,letting herself out the front door.

  Emerging upon the street, Penny's first thought was to find a goodhiding place where she could wait to view Mrs. Dillon's expected caller.

  "I may have a tedious time of it," she reflected, "but if I learn theidentity of the agent with whom she dealt it will be worth
all thetrouble."

  A half block away she noticed a large truck parked along the curbing.The vehicle had been abandoned, a cracked-up front wheel giving muteevidence that it had been in an accident. The truck was of the closedcab type and it dawned upon Penny that if she could get inside, shewould have a perfect observation post.

  Luckily the cab of the truck had not been locked and she slipped intothe driver's seat, slamming the door shut.

  An hour passed. The job of watching Mrs. Dillon's house becameirksome. No one had called except a peddler and a delivery boy from alaundry.

  Penny tried to pass the time by examining the many gadgets with whichthe great truck was equipped. She imagined that it might be loads offun to drive such a powerful machine.

  Suddenly her attention was arrested by an automobile which with ashrill screeching of brakes came to a halt in front of the Dillonresidence. A well-dressed middle-aged man, carrying a black leatherbrief case, got out of the car.

  Penny was sure she had never seen him before. She observed him closelyas he emerged from his automobile. He crossed the street with a quick,energetic stride as if he knew just where he was going and what heintended doing after he arrived. She saw him standing patiently atMrs. Dillon's door, waiting for a servant to answer his ring.

  Was the man the agent Mrs. Dillon had mentioned? The rogue who hadsold the fake painting to the gullible woman? He certainly did notlook like a crook, Penny thought, nor did he act like one. Just onemore reason, she decided, why she must take nothing for granted. Sheproduced a notebook and pencil from her purse and made a carefulnotation of the stranger's automobile license number as well as itsmake and model.

  For perhaps forty-five minutes the man remained inside the house. Whenhe crossed the street to his car he skipped along with an agilitysurprising in a man of his years. He smiled broadly as if his mission,whatever it may have been, was successful. Scarcely had he driven awaywhen another automobile swung into the same parking space.

  From her place of advantage, Penny fixed her attention on the newcomer,but before she could see his face, she was startled by a gruff voice,almost in her ear:

  "Hey there! Come down out of that!"

  A roughly dressed truck driver stood on the running board, gesturingangrily. "What do you think this truck is?" he demanded. "A free parkseat?"

  Penny hastily climbed out of the cab, making an offhand apology for herpresence.

  "Okay Miss," the truck driver said, "seein' as you're a gal. But ifyou had been a man, I would have taken a fall out of ya. It's a crimethat a man can't go for help without having some strange sister cuddledown in his cab."

  The trucker's loud, gruff voice had attracted the attention of the manin the parked automobile. He stepped from his car and came toward thecouple.

  "What's the idea of abusing a helpless young girl?" he asked.

  Penny recognized the voice, and resisted an impulse to turn her head.She knew that the newcomer was Hanley Cron. He had come to call uponMrs. Dillon. That was plain. She must not let him discover that shewas watching the house. Quickly, before either of the men were awareof her intention, she darted behind the truck and fled down the street.