CHAPTER XII _Detective Gay Arrives_
Mary Louise awakened the following morning with a delightful sense ofexpectancy. It was the day before Christmas! Surely her father wouldcome; he would know how much she wanted him, and her mother would beunselfish enough to urge him to go. He would bring Mary Louise herChristmas presents and take her out to Christmas dinner.
She dressed quickly and hurried down to the lobby to ask the secretarywhether there was any message for her. None had arrived as yet, but bythe time she had finished her breakfast it came.
"Arrive about noon to stay over Christmas with you. Love--Dad," were theprecious words she read.
Her eyes sparkling with anticipation, Mary Louise ran to Mrs. Hilliardwith her good news.
"So you see I don't need to go home," she said. "I can hardly wait tillhe comes!"
"I'm so glad, dear," replied the manager. "You've been an awfully goodsport about being away from your family--and now you're getting yourreward."
"I think I'll put in my time till he arrives by going over to visit myfriend Pauline Brooks," said Mary Louise. "I'd like to find out whethershe obtained her bail yet."
"You better be careful," warned Mrs. Hilliard. "That girl probably hatesyou now, and if she's free there's no telling what she might do to you!"
"I know she hates me. But she can't do a thing. Especially with guardsall around.... And I'll be back before Dad comes. I want to be on thespot to greet him."
She put on her hat and coat and went to the address which Mr. Hayden hadwritten down for her on the paper. She encountered no difficulty infinding her way to the matron who had charge of the women prisoners.
"I am Mary Louise Gay," she said. "A private detective in the employ ofthe manager of Stoddard House. I believe that two of yourprisoners--Pauline Brooks and Mary Green--are guilty of some robberiesthere, as well as at the Bellevue, where they were caught. But I haven'tevidence enough to prove my case. I thought if I might talk to thesegirls----"
The matron interrupted her. "You can't do that, Miss Gay," she said,"because they have already been released on bail, until their case comesup next month."
"How did they get the money--it was five hundred dollars, wasn't it?--sosoon?"
"They wired yesterday to a Mrs. Ferguson in Baltimore. Miss Brooksreceived a registered letter this morning, and the girls left half anhour ago."
Mary Louise sighed; it seemed as if she were always too late. Why hadn'tshe come here before breakfast, since she knew from Mr. Hayden last nightthat the girls had telegraphed a request for the money?
"Where did they go?" was her next question.
"I don't know. They are to report back here on the morning of Januarysecond--or forfeit their bail."
"They won't be back," announced Mary Louise. "Five hundred dollars isnothing to them."
The matron turned to read a letter; she had no more time to discuss thesubject with the young detective. But Mary Louise lingered.
"I just want to ask one more question," she said; "and then I won't takeany more of your time. Was there a letter from this Mrs. Ferguson, or didshe merely send the money?"
"There was a letter. I had it copied, because Mr. Hayden told me to keepcopies of any correspondence these girls had while they were here....Wait a minute--yes, here it is. You may read it for yourself."
Mary Louise took the copy eagerly and read it as quickly as she could.The writing was poor but entirely legible, and the words were spelledright. But the subject matter was so rambling that in certain places shewas not sure that she read it correctly. This was the letter which shefinally deciphered:
_Dear Girls:_
_You poor girls! Meet your misfortune with this $500. U.S. justice is terrible! In what other country would they detain innocent girls?_
_Baltimore is where I am now, but I am leaving immediately for a trip to Florida. Margaret can't go with me on account of school. Will you write to her? Get her address from the phone book._
_Treasure Island is playing at the movies, and we liked it a lot. From my observation it is like the book. C.S. enjoyed it thoroughly. And so did I. Bring me back the book if you go home for Christmas. It was mine anyhow._
_Tonight I am packing. Baltimore is tiresome, and I'll be glad to leave._
_Love,_ _Aunt Ethel._
"May I make another copy of this letter?" Mary Louise asked the matron.Since it was rather peculiar, it would bear studying. Besides, itmentioned Margaret, and that might mean Margaret Detweiler.
The matron agreed.
"Yes, sit down at that desk. Or do you want a typewriter?"
"Well, if you can lend me one," answered Mary Louise. She had learnedtyping at school, thinking it would come in handy in her chosenprofession.
So she typed the letter carefully and put it into her handbag.
As she stepped out into the open air again she saw by one of the bigclocks on the street that it was only a little past ten. Two hours towait until she saw her father! Two hours, with nothing to do. It seemedrather ridiculous that she should be so idle when everybody else wasapparently so busy. The throngs of people on the streets rushed along asif there were not a minute to lose.
"I can go in here and buy some handkerchiefs for Mrs. Hilliard forChristmas," she thought, as she entered a department store. All the restof her gifts had been bought and wrapped up long ago; they were piledneatly in a box at home, ready for her mother to distribute to her familyand her friends on Christmas morning.
The organ in the store was playing Christmas music; Mary Louise lingeredfor a while after she made her purchase to listen to it. She felt veryhappy because her father was coming.
She returned to the hotel about eleven, put Mrs. Hilliard's gift on herdesk and went down to one of the reception rooms to wait for her father.The Walder girls came in--they both had a half holiday so that they mightstart home early--and they said good-bye to Mary Louise and wished her amerry Christmas.
The slow hands of the clock crept towards twelve. At five minutes of thehour her father came.
Mary Louise saw him the minute he opened the door and rushed to him as ifit had been years, and not days, since their parting.
"Oh, Dad, this is grand!" she cried. "I was so afraid you wouldn't beable to get here. Are you very busy?"
"No, dear," he replied as he kissed her. "There's a sort of lull in mywork now, and I had expected to be home for several days. But now I am atyour service. Your aunt arrived yesterday to be with your mother over theholidays, so they probably won't miss me much. I want you to tell meeverything that has happened so far. Max said your watch was stolen, andyou were hit on the head by a stone. How is your head now?"
"It's all right, Daddy. And I bought a cheap watch, so I can get alongwithout my good one, though of course I was especially fond of it. Butcome into the dining room and let's have lunch while we talk. At least,if you don't mind being the only man with a lot of women. Max objected tothat."
"No, I don't mind," he said. "And I am hungry."
When they were seated at one of the small tables and had given theirorders, Mary Louise began to tell her story.
"I was robbed that very first night," she said. "Of course, it was prettydark in my room, but not terribly so, for the street lights show up quitewell. Anyhow, I could see well enough to distinguish a small man, with acap and a black mask.
"Well, we had a watchman on guard that night, and the police got here inno time, but nobody saw the burglar get away. I insisted he was hiding inthe hotel, but Mrs. Hilliard had it searched thoroughly, and we couldn'tfind a man in the place. I didn't dream then that it was a girlmasquerading as a man. But that is the explanation: a girl named PaulineBrooks, who lived right across the hall from me. Of course, it was theeasiest thing in the world for her to slip back into her own room andtake off her disguise."
"Did you search for the burglar in her room too?"
"Yes, we went there the very first thing. Pauline made us wait a minuteor two--she said she had just gotten in from a dance and was halfundressed."
"And you believed her?"
"Yes, indeed. We had become quite good friends at supper that night."
Mr. Gay laughed. "But what finally led you to suspect her?"
Mary Louise went on to tell her father in detail about her falsesuspicions concerning first Miss Stoddard and then Miss Weinberger, anddescribed her visit to the Bellevue and the catching of Pauline Brooksand Mary Green in the very act of stealing.
"But that wasn't evidence enough to prove them guilty of the robberies atStoddard House," objected her father.
"I know," admitted Mary Louise. "But I figured out that there is a wholeband of these secret hotel thieves, for I'm pretty sure two other membersstole some silverware and a vase from Stoddard House a while ago. Ibelieve, too, that a woman whom Pauline called her aunt is the leader....And that's what I want you to do, Dad. Go after her!"
"But where is she?" he demanded.
"I think she's in Baltimore now, at the Hotel Phillips, because that'swhere the girls got their money for bail. Five hundred dollars. She'splanning to go to Florida, so you have to hurry."
"What could I do with her if I did find her?" inquired Mr. Gay.
"Couldn't you arrest her?"
"Not unless I had some evidence against her."
Mary Louise sighed: it was dreadful, she thought, to know that somebodywas guilty and not be able to prove it. But she could see that her fatherwas right.
Mr. Gay was enjoying his lunch. He praised the food and the service toMary Louise and exclaimed in surprise that the hotel was not well filled.
"It's partly because of these robberies," explained Mary Louise. "Severalpeople have moved out just since I came. No wonder Mrs. Hilliard isworried."
"But she feels encouraged since you found two of the thieves, doesn'tshe?"
"Oh, yes, she's tremendously pleased. She told me I had earned my money,and I could go home. But of course I'm not satisfied. The job's only halfdone."
The waitress approached the table, and offered a menu.
"I'll take plum pudding," announced Mr. Gay, "in celebration of theseason. How about you, Mary Lou?"
"Chocolate sundae," was her inevitable choice.
"Where," inquired Mr. Gay, turning to his daughter, "did this aunt ofPauline's live when she was in Philadelphia?"
"She stayed at the Ritz."
"Never at Stoddard House?"
"Oh no."
"Then we'll make a visit to the Ritz after lunch. And I think I will takethe two o'clock train to Baltimore to see what I can find out about thewoman. What does she call herself?"
"Mrs. Ferguson--and sometimes Mrs. Brooks. Possibly there are twodifferent women, but I don't believe so.... But what will you do at theRitz, Daddy?"
"Just make inquiries as to whether anything was stolen while the womanstayed there, and if so, what. That would give me a reason for goingafter her in Baltimore."
"That's a great idea, Dad!" exclaimed Mary Louise joyfully. "May I go tothe hotel with you?"
"Of course. Now, you run along and get your hat and coat and tell Mrs.Hilliard where you are going, while I order a taxi."
It was not until they were in the cab that Mr. Gay remembered to ask howMary Louise had received the cut on her head. Max had not told him much,he explained, because he wanted to keep it secret from Mary Louise'smother, to save her unnecessary worry.
"It was part of my investigation about Margaret Detweiler," replied thegirl, and she hurriedly told her father the reason for her visit toCenter Square and its consequences. "But I feel that in some way the twocases are tied up together," she added, "for the woman who owns the placeis named Mrs. Ferguson, and a face which I saw at the window reminded meof the woman Pauline called her aunt. But it's all very confusing."
The taxi pulled up at the Ritz, and Mr. Gay and his daughter got out.With his badge, the former had no difficulty in interviewing the hoteldetective immediately. He asked whether any money or valuables had beenlost at the Ritz during the past week.
"Yes," replied the other, "some money and a valuable bag containing twopearl rings were stolen last Friday. But we suspected a chap who calledhimself a traveling salesman, and we're on his track."
"Was a Mrs. Brooks staying here at the time?"
"Yes. I remember her well. With two nieces."
"Please describe her," urged Mary Louise.
"She is tall and stout--weighs around a hundred and eighty, I shouldjudge. About fifty years old, with black hair done very severely--lookslike a wig. Dresses well and wears jewelry. Has false teeth and an uglymouth, but seems a great favorite with young people.... That's aboutall."
"That's enough," said Mr. Gay. "Now, can you tell me just what wasstolen?"
The detective wrote down the articles on a slip of paper. "A bagcontaining two pearl rings, and two hundred dollars." The bag wasvaluable in itself, being made of gold mesh, he told them.
"Thank you very much," said Mr. Gay as he pocketed the list. "I'll letyou know if I have any success."
The taxi was waiting outside the hotel, and Mary Louise jumped into itfirst.
"I'll ride to the station with you, Daddy," she said. "Do you thinkyou'll be back tonight?"
"Maybe," he answered. "But we'll have a fine Christmas togethertomorrow."
He was just in time to catch his train. Mary Louise watched it pull outof the station and wondered what in the world she would do to pass theafternoon. Slowly she walked out to the street and looked at theChristmas displays in the shop windows.
She had gone about two blocks when she stopped to examine a particularlyattractive display, featuring a small, real Christmas tree, when shenoticed that the shop into whose window she was gazing was a tea room. Acup of hot chocolate ought to taste good, she decided--rich and hot, withwhipped cream on the top! So she opened the door and went inside.
Little did she realize at that moment how thankful she was to be later onfor that one cup of chocolate and the plate of little cakes that sheordered!