CHAPTER XIX
PAYMENT IS DEMANDED FOR THE GRAY MASK
The approach of the moment when she must testify against Slim andGeorge; must tell in public the details of that tragedy which had playedsuch havoc with her, drove Nora into a morbid humor which neither Garthnor the inspector could alter. She followed Garth on the stand. She wasdressed in black. The appeal of her personality was irresistible. It wasclear that if the two criminals had ever had a chance Nora would destroyit.
Slim and George sat by their counsel. George could not quite hide theanimal character of his face, but he had managed to soften it somewhat.Evidently he endeavoured to impress the jurors with the idea that he wasa good-natured fellow who had been involved in the case through somecurious mischance. At Nora's appearance, Garth noticed, there came intohis eyes a survival of the passion he had so recklessly declared in thesteel-lined room.
Slim, on the other hand, let slip nothing of the criminal. His quietclothing gave him an air almost clerical. His sharp features expressed apolite interest. He could not, a casual spectator would have said, becapable of the evil with which he was charged.
Garth watched the men perpetually. He saw the hatred slip through whilehe quietly told the story that would condemn them to death. DuringNora's recital, too, both men exposed something of their powerful desirefor revenge against these two who quietly droned away their lives.
Garth took Nora from the courtroom well aware that, given theopportunity, Slim and George would not let them move a foot withoutexacting full payment.
Garth respected Nora's mood. He put her in a cab and sent her home, thenwandered restlessly about the down town streets.
Perhaps Nora's attitude was partly responsible for his feeling ofoppression, of imminence. Nothing could happen, he told himself again.Slim and George would start for the death house to-morrow. They wouldhave no chance. If they delegated such work to their subordinates stillat large, Garth fancied that he could take care of himself and Nora,too. It was the exceptional cunning of Slim and George that he shrankfrom, had feared ever since the night Nora and he had trapped them.
Angry with himself he went to headquarters. The inspector admitted thathe, too, would breathe easier when the two were in the chair.
The next day Garth managed to dismiss his premonition. He chatted withtwo or three detectives in the outside office. The inspector sent forhim. The moment he answered the summons he knew something disastroushad occurred. He felt that the exceptional, almost with the effect of aphysical violence, had entered the room ahead of him.
The inspector held the telephone. The receiver was at his ear. His hugefigure projected to Garth an uncontrolled fear. His voice, customarilyrumbling and authoritative, was no more than a groping whisper.
"Why the devil doesn't Nora answer? Do you know, Garth, that Slim andGeorge are loose on the town?"
Garth started back. He would have responded just so to a blow in theface.
"They are on their way to the death house," he countered.
"You mean they were," the inspector said, "condemned by your testimonyand Nora's."
His voice rose and thickened.
"I've just got the word. An explosion was planted in front of their vanon the way to the Grand Central. There was a crowd of rats from theslums. Those birds were torn from the sheriff's men, and their braceletsknocked off. They were spirited away. But don't you suppose Slim andGeorge would gamble I'll never let them out of this town? Every exit'sbarred now. They know their liberty's only good to pay old debts.What'll they do at the start?"
Garth braced himself against the desk.
"They'll go for Nora first. Then they'll get me. I've been afraid of itall along."
"I'm trying to warn her," the inspector raged. "She doesn't answer."
He shouted into the transmitter:
"Are you all dead out there? Get me that number, or by heaven--"
While the inspector stormed to be put in communication with his daughterGarth tried to plan. Could he devise any useful defence against Slim'simagination, abnormally clever and inscrutable; or against such nakedbrutality as George's? And the malevolence of these two would be all themore certain in its action since no fear of punishment would restrainit. The murder, or worse, of Garth and Nora, which undoubtedly theyintended, could earn for them only the death penalty to which they werealready condemned.
"You've got to get Nora," Garth urged the inspector. "The servant atleast should be there."
"Her afternoon out, and Nora said she would be home."
"Then," Garth cried, "they made for her like a shot."
He turned and strode to the door.
"Where are you going, Jim?"
"Keep after that number," Garth called back. "If you get Nora tell herI'm on the way, and to sit tight."
The inspector tried to stop him.
"You're out of your head. Your only chance is to keep under cover.They'll give you a bullet in the back."
"Somebody's got to look after Nora," Garth called, and caught up hiscoat and hat, and ran from the building.
He threaded a course through the homeward bound crowds, experiencing thesensations of a truant from an impending and destructive retribution,his eyes alert for a sudden movement, his ears constantly prepared forthe sharp crack of a revolver.
As he ran he recalled that evening last summer when he had side-trackedSimmons and had taken his place behind a replica of the gray mask. Hecould see Nora in her cheap finery, and George, he remembered with asense of sheer terror, had loved Nora in his way; had, in fact, throughhis brutal and amorous eagerness, delivered himself into her hands. Hethrew aside all caution. He ran faster. Somehow, no matter what thecost, he had to keep Nora out of the grasp of those men.
He reached the flat, breathless and wondering that he had not beendisturbed. No one answered his ring. He questioned the hall-boy. Theinspector's daughter had left fifteen minutes ago. She had saidheadquarters had telephoned her to go to her father without delay. Thesituation was clear. Garth grasped the hall-boy's arm.
"Didn't you follow her to the door? Didn't you see where she went?"
The boy shook his head, clearly alarmed before such vehemence.
"Then you must have heard. Did you hear anything?"
The boy tried to free his arm. He whimpered.
"No. Unless--maybe somebody screamed, but there are so many children inthe street, playin' and hollerin'--"
Garth let him go and ran to the sidewalk. A man stood there. In spite ofthe sharp cold he wore no coat. Garth recognized him for a tailor whoworked in a nearby shop. The tailor's excitement made him nearlyincoherent, but Garth drew from him a description of Slim and George. Asthe inspector's daughter had stepped to the sidewalk, he said, the menhad sprung upon her, stifled her one scream, and driven her off in anautomobile.
"I saw it from my shop," he spluttered. "I've been telephoning theinspector. I just got him, because his wire was busy."
"Which direction did they take?"
The tailor pointed south. Garth hurried to the curb, stooped, and foundfresh tire marks. He was aware of his helplessness unless Nora'singenuity had hit upon some trick for his guidance. He searched with agreedy hope. While his eyes roved about the frozen dust of the gutter heacknowledged that the inspector had appraised his men justly. Slim andGeorge wouldn't even try to leave the city until the hue and cry hadsomewhat abated. Into the windings of the underworld they had carriedNora, and Garth knew how devious those windings were--what silent andinvisible machinery would nourish and secrete and protect.
He lifted a tiny tuft of fur which had nestled, almost hidden, in thedust of the gutter. He examined it closely. It's colour and texture werereminiscent of the muff he had frequently seen Nora carry. It might be asouvenir of her struggle, or else--
He arose and walked down the street, searching every inch of thepavement. At the corner his breath quickened, for he knew the piece offur had not rested in the gutter by accident. Two others were there,trampled, but su
ggestive of the direction taken by the automobile. Hecould picture Nora surreptitiously tearing the bits from her muff anddropping them from the window of the car.
He hastened on. As soon as he was confident the pieces constituted anintelligible trail he conquered his impatience long enough to enter adrug store and telephone his discovery to the inspector.
"I'm going on," he explained. "The Lord knows what I'll find, so getafter me right away."
The voice that reached him could not conceal its suspense.
"Go fast, Garth, and I'll follow with every man I can raise. Pull Noraout of this and ask me for my badge."
Garth went on, following the trail into the dark and intricatethoroughfares of the lower east side, knowing that each moment hispursuit might be abruptly and fatally ended by a flash of light fromthe obscurity ahead.
* * * * * *
He emerged into a waterfront street which was nearly deserted at thishour. One or two street lamps of an antiquated pattern flickeredineffectually. The only sign of habitation was a glow, wan andunhealthy, which escaped from the broad windows of a saloon on thecorner.
Garth knew the reputation of that dive, and its long resistance to afinal closing of its shutters. More than once the yellow sawdust of itsfloor had reddened, while men had fought towards its doors through awhirling, pungent fog of powder smoke. He remembered, too, that it wassuspected of harboring the explanation of stealthier and more revoltingcrimes, the responsibility for which, however, had never been legallydetermined. He was glad when the automobile tracks swung beyond it, butthey turned in at the next building, a warehouse with a crumbling,picturesque facade. He saw beneath the edge of a double cellar door alarger piece of fur, mute testimony that the place had recently beenopened, that the condemned men had carried Nora to its abandoned vaults;but if Slim and George had trusted themselves there, the cellarobviously furnished other exits, perhaps underground to the river,almost certainly through the evil saloon next door. That, indeed, mightoffer him the chance he must have to come upon his men unexpectedly,from the rear.
He glanced around. There was no policeman in sight. He saw only half adozen pedestrians--shambling creatures who appeared to seek theplentiful darkness. The neighboring warehouses, the pier opposite,frowned back at him. The lapping of the water was expectant. Yet high inthe air two brilliant arches were suspended across a slight mist. Theywere restless with blurred movement. Constantly they lowered into thissomber pit an incessant murmuring, like an echo, heard at a distance,from some complicated and turbulent industry.
These crowded bridges, his desolate surroundings, assumed a phantasmalquality for Garth. The only real world lay beyond those sloping, silentdoors which had been swung back to admit Nora.
While he looked a figure detached itself from the shadows at the cornerof the warehouse. It moved, lurching, in his direction. He could onlysee that the newcomer was in rags with unkempt hair, and features,sunken and haggard. He grasped his revolver, suspecting that thisvagabond exterior disguised a member of the gang--an outpost. Yet therewas a chance that the man was one of the neighborhood's multitude ofderelicts--a purveyor, possibly, of valuable information.
"Come here, my friend," he called. "How long have you been loafing inthat corner?"
The other hesitated. When he answered his voice was withoutresonance--scarcely more than an exaggerated whisper.
"Who the devil are you?"
Garth held out some money. The claw-like hand extended itself, closingover the coins. In quick succession the man rang three of the pieces onthe pavement. Garth's watchfulness increased. Such routine suggested asignal, but the fellow picked up his money, grinning.
"Seems good," he said in his difficult voice. "If you want to know thatbad, maybe an hour; maybe more. Napping. Nothing better to do, but I'mhonest, and I'd work if I got the chance."
"An automobile drove up here," Garth said rapidly.
"Why so it did. I seen it with these very peepers--not a quarter of anhour back."
"How many got out of it? What did they do?"
"I seen two men and a woman," the other answered. "They lifted thatcellar door and went down. Now I wondered why they did that."
"Did the woman make a fight?"
The other shook his head.
"Went like it was a candy store."
Cutting across his throaty accents, a feminine cry shrilled. The heavydoors could not muffle its terror. It seemed like a response to theringing of the coins. Suddenly it was hushed. Garth shoved the man toone side, urged by a temper that no longer permitted calculation. At anyrisk he must get to Nora and to those who were responsible for thatunrestrained appeal.
Beyond the doors of the saloon he faced the proprietor acrossunoccupied tables. He remembered the round, livid face beneath its crownof reddish hair. He had seen it more than once, sullen and unashamed,behind the bars at headquarters. He had often watched its wrinklessmooth into a bland hypocrisy before the frown of a magistrate. Theman's past history made a connection between him and Slim's party nearlyinevitable. But Garth had no choice. The proprietor, at his entrance,had braced his elbows against the bar.
"I ain't done a thing, Mr. Garth. I call God to witness there ain'tanything to bring a bull here except near beer and tobaccy."
"We'll see, Papa Marlowe," Garth said evenly. "I'm going into the cellarof the warehouse next door. Dollars to dimes there's a way through yourplace. Will you give up the combination quietly?"
Marlowe's misgivings resolved into a smile. Instead of protestations heoffered only an oily surprise.
"Now who told you there was a door through my cellar?"
"Never mind," Garth snapped. "I'll take all the chances and use it, butat a sound from you--You understand? Come ahead then."
Marlowe slouched down the stairs, muttering apologetically:
"Blest if I know what you want there. Old hole's been closed six years.That was a growler door for the warehousemen. Hold up, Mr. Garth, andI'll strike a match."
Garth ordered him ahead while he pressed the control of his pocket lamp.They continued between grim walls, splashed with mold, beaded withmoisture, offering the appearance and the odor of a neglected tomb. Theypaused before an oak door.
"Don't open," Garth whispered. "Let me get my fingers on the latch."
"Maybe it's locked on the other side," Marlowe whispered back.
But when Garth tried the latch noiselessly he found that the door wouldopen.
"I don't trust you, Papa," he said, "but if you want to make yourselfsolid at headquarters find a policeman and tell him what I'm upagainst."
The round, white face leered.
"The cops and I seem hand and glove these days. What _are_ you upagainst, Mr. Garth? What you want in that empty cellar?"
Garth waved him away; watched him retreat towards the stairs, squintinghis beady eyes, mouthing unintelligibly.
The detective snapped off his light, aware that he faced the criticalmoment. He opened the door and stepped into the black pall of thewarehouse cellar. His memory reinforced him. Other members of the bureauhad taken equal risks, had followed into such places criminals asdesperate as the ones who held Nora. Moreover, they had lacked theimpulse of a vigorous personal motive. They had answered only to thestimulation of duty. Not frequently they had emerged successful,unharmed.
He held his revolver ready. He moved to one side and paused. For somemoments the silence was broken only by the drumming of his pulse in hisears. He realized it was not unlikely that the cellar was empty save forhimself. The men might have led Nora into it as a trick to confuse thepolice. Nora's cry might have marked their departure by some ingeniouslycontrived exit. As his own immediate danger appeared to diminish hisdisappointment and anxiety increased. He had been prepared to riskeverything for Nora. As if it had actually been prolonged to thismoment, her cry still vibrated in his brain. Inaction was no longerbearable. He must assure himself that the cellar was, indeed, empty. Hemust find that exit and continue h
is pursuit. He stepped forward.
Light flashed, and from the sudden, sparkling confusion a rememberedlaugh jeered at him.