Read The Brand of Silence Page 11


  CHAPTER XI

  CONCERNING KATE GILBERT

  Given a definite trail to follow, Jim Farland was one of the besttrackers in the business. He liked to know his quarry by sight, andconduct the hunt in a proper manner. And so he rejoiced, that now he wasfollowing a person he believed to be interested in some way in theShepley case.

  The limousine went up Fifth Avenue toward Central Park, and the taxicabwith Jim Farland inside followed half a block behind. Farland didnothing except look ahead continually and make sure that his chauffeurdid not lose the other machine. He wanted to discover, first, where MissKate Gilbert was going, and after that he wanted to acquire all theinformation he could concerning her.

  There was little traffic on the Avenue at this hour, and the limousinemade good progress. It curved around the Circle and went up Central ParkWest. In the Eighties it turned off into a side street, and finally drewup to the curb and stopped. The taxicab came to a halt a hundred feetbehind it. "Wait," Jim Farland instructed the chauffeur, showing hisshield. "Wait until I come back, even if I don't come back untilmorning. You will get good pay, all right."

  The chauffeur settled back behind his wheel, and Farland stepped to oneside in the darkness and watched. He saw an elderly gentleman emergefrom the limousine and turn to help Kate Gilbert out. Then the elderlygentleman got into the car again and was driven away, and Kate Gilbertwent into the apartment house before which the limousine had stopped.

  Detective Jim Farland hurried forward, but when he came opposite theapartment house he slowed down and walked slowly, glancing in. It wasnot an apartment house of the better sort. The lobby was small, therewas an automatic elevator, and no hall boy was on duty, that Farlandcould see. There was a row of mail boxes against a wall, with nameplates over them.

  Farland went up the steps, opened the door, and stepped inside thelobby. He walked across to the mail boxes and began looking at thenames. He found some one named Gilbert had an apartment on the thirdfloor, front.

  The stairs were before him, and Farland was about to start up them whena door leading to the basement was opened, and a janitor appeared. Hewas an old man, bent and withered, and he looked at Farland with suddensuspicion.

  "You want to see somebody in the house?" he asked, in a voice thatquavered.

  "I want to see you," Jim Farland answered.

  "What about, sir?"

  Farland exhibited his shield, and the old janitor recoiled, frightdepicted in his face.

  "I ain't done anything wrong, mister," he said hoarsely. "I obey all theregulations about ashes and garbage and everything like that."

  "Don't be afraid of me," Farland said. "I'm not accusing you of doinganything wrong, am I? I can see that you're a law-abiding man. Youhaven't nerve enough to be anything else. Suppose you step outside withme for a few minutes. I just want to ask you a few questions aboutsomething."

  "All right, sir, if that's it," the old janitor said.

  He opened the front door and led the way outside, and Farland forced himto walk a short distance down the street, and there they stopped in adoorway to talk.

  "I'm going to ask you a few questions, and you are going to answer them,and then you are going to forget that you ever saw me or that I everasked you a thing," Farland said.

  "I understand, sir. I won't give away any police business," the oldjanitor replied. "I know all about such things. I had a nephew once whowas a policeman."

  "There's a party living in your place who goes by the name of Gilbert,isn't there?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "How many are there in the family, and who are they, and what do youknow about them?"

  "There is an old man, sir," the janitor answered. "He's a sort ofcripple, I guess. He always sits in one of them invalid chairs, and whenhe goes out somebody has to wheel him. If he ain't exactly a cripple,then he's mighty sick and weak."

  "Who else is in the family?"

  "He's got a daughter, whose name is Miss Kate," the janitor said. "She'sa mighty fine-lookin' girl, too. She's a nice woman, I reckon. 'Pears tobe, anyway."

  "Do you know anything in particular about her?" Jim Farland asked him.

  "Well, she's been away for about three months, and she just got back,"the janitor replied. "I don't know where she was--didn't hear. While shewas gone, there was a man nurse 'tended to her father--cooked the mealsand kept the apartment clean and took him out in his wheel chair. MissKate has a maid they call Marie--a big, ugly woman. She takes care ofthings generally when she is here, but she was away with Miss Kate."

  "How long have they lived here?" Farland asked.

  "About three years, sir. But I don't know much about them. They ain'tthe kind of folks a man can find out a lot about. They act peculiarsometimes."

  "Are they rich?"

  "My gracious, no!" said the old janitor. "They pay their rent on time,and they always seem to have plenty to eat, and I guess they can affordto keep that maid and hire a nurse once in a while, but they ain't whatyou'd call rich. But Miss Kate comes home in a big automobile now andthen, and she seems to have a lot of clothes. There's something funnyabout it, at that."

  "Think she isn't a decent woman?" Farland asked.

  "Oh, I don't think she's a bad sort, sir, if that is what you mean. Shedoesn't seem to be, at all. I guess she gets her swell clothes honestenough. I think that she works for somebody and has to dress that way."

  "Do they get much mail and have many visitors?"

  "They get a few letters, and some newspapers and magazines," the janitorreplied. "And they don't seem to have many visitors. I've seen a mancome here once or twice to see them, and once he brought Miss Kate homein an auto. He looks like a rich man."

  "Is he old or young?" Farland asked.

  "Oh, he has gray hair, sir, and looks like a distinguished gentleman,like a lawyer or something. I guess he's rich. I think maybe he is anold friend of Mr. Gilbert's, or something like that."

  "They live on the third floor, don't they?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Any vacant apartments up there?"

  "Why, the apartment adjoining theirs happens to be vacant just now,sir."

  "You take me up to that vacant apartment," Jim Farland directed. "Let mein without making any noise, and then forget all about me until I speakto you again. Here is a nice little bill, and there will be more if youattend to business. I'm an officer, so you'll not get in trouble withthe landlord."

  The old janitor accepted the bill gladly, and led the way back to thehouse. Jim Farland refused to use the elevator; he insisted on walkingup the stairs, and on going up noiselessly. When they reached the thirdfloor, he was doubly alert.

  The old janitor pointed out the door of the vacant apartment, and handedFarland a key. Then he pattered back down the stairs. Farland slippedalong the hall, unlocked the door of the vacant apartment, dartedinside, and locked the door again, putting the key in his pocket. Andthen he moved noiselessly through the apartment until he had reached thefront.

  He could hear voices in the apartment adjoining, and could make out theconversation. A woman was speaking--Farland decided that she was KateGilbert--and the weak voice of a sick man was answering her now andthen.

  "Let's not talk about it any more to-night, father," the girl wassaying. "You'll not sleep well, if you get to thinking about it. Youmust go to bed now, and we'll have a real talk about things when I havesomething of importance to tell you. Get a good sleep, and in themorning Marie can take you out in the Park."

  Jim Farland could hear the old man mutter some reply, and then therereached his ears the squeaking of a wheel chair being rolled across thefloor. He remained for a time standing against the wall, listening. Hedecided that those in the Gilbert apartment were preparing to retire.Half an hour later, Farland slipped from the room and went to thebasement to find the janitor.

  "Here's your key," he said. "I'll be back here in the morning, and I'llwant to see you. And remember--you're not to say a word about all this."

  "Not a sing
le word, sir."

  Farland went back to the taxicab and drove to his own modest home, wherehe tumbled into bed and slept the sleep of the just. When Jim Farlandslept, he slept--and when he worked, he worked. Farland did not mixlabor and rest.

  He arose early, hurried through his breakfast, got another taxicab andwent up into the Eighties again. The old janitor was sweeping off thewalk in front of the apartment house. The curtains at the windows of theGilbert apartment were still down.

  "Give me that key again and give me a pass key, too," Farland told theold janitor. "If the maid takes Mr. Gilbert out, and Miss Gilbert isgone at the same time, I want to get into their apartment and take alook around. Understand? And I'll want you to watch, so I'll not becaught in there."

  "I understand, sir. Here are the keys."

  Farland reached the vacant apartment without being seen. The Gilbertswere up now and eating breakfast. He could hear Kate Gilbert trying tocheer her father, but not a word she said had anything to do with SidneyPrale, or Rufus Shepley, or anybody connected in any way with theShepley murder case.

  "Now you must let Marie take you to the Park, father," he heard the girlsay. "It is a splendid day, and you must get a lot of fresh air. You cango down and watch the animals. I'm going out now, but I'll be back sometime during the afternoon, and then we'll talk about things."

  Jim Farland waited in the vacant apartment until he heard Kate Gilbertdepart. A quarter of an hour later, he opened the front door a crack andsaw the gigantic Marie wheel out the chair with Mr. Gilbert in it. Theywent down in the elevator.

  Farland waited for another quarter of an hour, until the old janitorcame up and told that he had watched the maid wheel Mr. Gilbert into thePark.

  "I'll just leave the elevator up here until somebody rings," the oldjanitor said, "and I'll watch the floor below from the top of thestairs. Then, if any of them come back, I'll tell you so you can getout."

  He took his station at the head of the stairs, leaving the elevator dooropen so that the contrivance could not be operated from below. JimFarland unlocked the door of the Gilbert apartment and stepped inside.

  The first glance told him that it was an ordinary apartment furnished inquite an ordinary manner. It certainly did not look like a home ofwealth, and Sidney Prale had said that it had been understood inHonduras that Kate Gilbert was of a rich family and traveling for herhealth.

  Many tourists claim to have money when they are away from home, ofcourse, but the part about traveling for her health seemed to JimFarland to be going a bit too far. Would such a woman be traveling forher health and leave behind her at home an old father who was aninvalid?

  "There's something behind that little trip of hers," Farland toldhimself. "It looks to me as if she had gone down to Honduras to look upSid Prale for some reason. And Honduras isn't exactly on the health-triplist, either."

  He began a close inspection of the apartment, leaving no trace of hissearch behind him, disarranging nothing that he did not replace. JimFarland was an expert at such things.

  He ransacked a small desk that stood in one corner of the living roomand found a tablet of writing paper similar to that upon which had beenwritten the anonymous messages Sidney Prale had received. He foundscraps of writing in the wastebasket, too, and inspected them carefully.

  "Somebody in this apartment wrote those notes, all right," Farlandmused. "But why? That's the question I want answered, and I'll have tobe careful how I start in to find out. You can't bluff that girl; onelook is enough to tell me that. If I jump her about those notes, she'llprobably get wise and cover her tracks, and then I'll be strictly upagainst it."

  He found nothing else of importance in the apartment. There were someletters, but they seemed to be from relatives scattered throughout thecountry, ordinary letters dealing with family affairs of no particularconsequence, and they told Jim Farland nothing that he wished to know.

  But Kate Gilbert was only one angle of the case, he reminded himself,and so he decided that he was done for the present as far as she wasconcerned. It would be only a waste of valuable time, he thought, toremain longer in the Gilbert apartment; and there were plenty of otherthings for him to be doing.

  Farland went all over the apartment once more, making sure that he wasleaving everything in its proper place, that there would be nothing toshow that anybody had been making an investigation there. Then hehurried out and locked the door, returned the keys to the old janitor,gave him another bill and instructed him to forget the visit, lighted ablack cigar, and started walking rapidly southward.

  When the proper time arrived, Jim Farland would tell Miss Kate Gilbertthat he knew she had written the anonymous notes to Sidney Prale--orthat her maid had--and he would ask her why.

  He reached Columbus Circle, made his way over to Fifth Avenue, andcontinued his walk down that broad thoroughfare. Farland had decided togo to the hotel and have a talk with Sidney Prale and Murk. He toldhimself that he was going to like Murk, the human hulk who suddenly hadbecome of some use in the world.

  But he did not get a chance to go to the hotel just then. He came to abusy corner, and stopped to wait for a chance to cross the streetcongested with traffic. Suddenly, a few feet to his right, he saw KateGilbert, who had left her apartment only a short time before.

  There was nothing startling in that fact alone, for this was a districtwhere there were fashionable shops and beauty parlors, and well-dressedwomen were on every side.

  What interested Detective Jim Farland the most was that Kate Gilbert wasstanding before the show window of a fashionable shop in intimateconversation with George Lerton, Sidney Prale's cousin!