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  CHAPTER XVI

  THE DEAD LINE

  Maiden Lane, no less than Wall Street, was deeply interested in theradium case. In fact, it seemed that one case in this section of thecity led to another.

  Naturally, the Star and the other papers made much of the capture ofDenison. Still, I was not prepared for the host of Maiden Lane casesthat followed. Many of them were essentially trivial. But one proved tobe of extreme importance.

  "Professor Kennedy, I have just heard of your radium case, and I--Ifeel that I can--trust you."

  There was a note of appeal in the hesitating voice of the tall, heavilyveiled woman whose card had been sent up to us with a nervous "Urgent"written across its face.

  It was very early in the morning, but our visitor was evidentlycompletely unnerved by some news which she had just received and whichhad sent her posting to see Craig.

  Kennedy met her gaze directly with a look that arrested her involuntaryeffort to avoid it again. She must have read in his eyes more than inhis words that she might trust him.

  "I--I have a confession to make," she faltered.

  "Please sit down, Mrs. Moulton," he said simply. "It is my business toreceive confidences--and to keep them."

  She sank into, rather than sat down in, the deep leather rocker besidehis desk, and now for the first time raised her veil.

  Antoinette Moulton was indeed stunning, an exquisite creature with awonderful charm of slender youth, brightness of eye and brunetteradiance.

  I knew that she had been on the musical comedy stage and had had arapid rise to a star part before her marriage to Lynn Moulton, thewealthy lawyer, almost twice her age. I knew also that she had given upthe stage, apparently without a regret. Yet there was something strangeabout the air of secrecy of her visit. Was there a hint in it of adisagreement between the Moultons, I wondered, as I waited whileKennedy reassured her.

  Her distress was so unconcealed that Craig, for the moment, laid asidehis ordinary inquisitorial manner. "Tell me just as much or just aslittle as you choose, Mrs. Moulton," he added tactfully. "I will do mybest."

  A look almost of gratitude crossed her face.

  "When we were married," she began again, "my husband gave me abeautiful diamond necklace. Oh, it must have been worth a hundredthousand dollars easily. It was splendid. Everyone has heard of it. Youknow, Lynn--er--Mr. Moulton, has always been an enthusiastic collectorof jewels."

  She paused again and Kennedy nodded reassuringly. I knew the thought inhis mind. Moulton had collected one gem that was incomparable with allthe hundred thousand dollar necklaces in existence.

  "Several months ago." she went on rapidly, still avoiding his eyes andforcing the words from her reluctant lips, "I--oh, I neededmoney--terribly."

  She had risen and faced him, pressing her daintily gloved handstogether in a little tremble of emotion which was none the less genuinebecause she had studied the art of emotion.

  "I took the necklace to a jeweler, Herman Schloss, of Maiden Lane, aman with whom my husband had often had dealings and whom I thought Icould trust. Under a promise of secrecy he loaned me fifty thousanddollars on it and had an exact replica in paste made by one of his bestworkmen. This morning, just now, Mr. Schloss telephoned me that hissafe had been robbed last night. My necklace is gone!"

  She threw out her hands in a wildly appealing gesture.

  "And if Lynn finds that the necklace in our wall safe is of paste--ashe will find, for he is an expert in diamonds--oh--what shall I do?Can't you--can't you find my necklace?"

  Kennedy was following her now eagerly. "You were blackmailed out of themoney?" he queried casually, masking his question.

  There was a sudden, impulsive drooping of her mouth, an evasion andkeen wariness in her eyes. "I can't see that that has anything to dowith the robbery," she answered in a low voice.

  "I beg your pardon," corrected Kennedy quickly. "Perhaps not. I'msorry. Force of habit, I suppose. You don't know anything more aboutthe robbery?"

  "N--no, only that it seems impossible that it could have happened in aplace that has the wonderful burglar alarm protection that Mr. Schlossdescribed to me."

  "You know him pretty well?"

  "Only through this transaction," she replied hastily. "I wish to heavenI had never heard of him."

  The telephone rang insistently.

  "Mrs. Moulton," said Kennedy, as he returned the receiver to the hook,"it may interest you to know that the burglar alarm company has justcalled me up about the same case. If I had need of an added incentive,which I hope you will believe I have not, that might furnish it. I willdo my best," he repeated.

  "Thank you--a thousand times," she cried fervently, and, had I beenCraig, I think I should have needed no more thanks than the look shegave him as he accompanied her to the door of our apartment.

  It was still early and the eager crowds were pushing their way tobusiness through the narrow network of downtown streets as Kennedy andI entered a large office on lower Broadway in the heart of the jewelrytrade and financial district.

  "One of the most amazing robberies that has ever been attempted hasbeen reported to us this morning," announced James McLear, manager ofthe Hale Electric Protection, adding with a look half of anxiety, halfof skepticism, "that is, if it is true."

  McLear was a stocky man, of powerful build and voice and a generalappearance of having been once well connected with the city detectiveforce before an attractive offer had taken him into this position ofgreat responsibility.

  "Herman Schloss, one of the best known of Maiden Lane jewelers," hecontinued, "has been robbed of goods worth two or three hundredthousand dollars--and in spite of every modern protection. So that youwill get it clearly, let me show you what we do here."

  He ushered us into a large room, on the walls of which were hundreds oflittle indicators. From the front they looked like rows of littlesquare compartments, tier on tier, about the size of ordinary postoffice boxes. Closer examination showed that each was equipped with adelicate needle arranged to oscillate backward and forward upon thevery minutest interference with the electric current. Under the boxes,each of which bore a number, was a series of drops and buzzers numberedto correspond with the boxes.

  "In nearly every office in Maiden Lane where gems and valuable jewelryare stored," explained McLear, "this electrical system of ours isinstalled. When the safes are closed at night and the doors swungtogether, a current of electricity is constantly shooting around thesafes, conducted by cleverly concealed wires. These wires are picked upby a cable system which finds its way to this central office. Oncehere, the wires are safeguarded in such manner that foreign currentsfrom other wires or from lightning cannot disturb the system."

  We looked with intense interest at this huge electrical pulse that feltevery change over so vast and rich an area.

  "Passing a big dividing board," he went on, "they are distributed andconnected each in its place to the delicate tangent galvanometers andsensitive indicators you see in this room. These instantly announce themost minute change in the working of the current, and each office has adistinct separate metallic circuit. Why, even a hole as small as a leadpencil in anything protected would sound the alarm here."

  Kennedy nodded appreciatively.

  "You see," continued McLear, glad to be able to talk to one whofollowed him so closely, "it is another evidence of science finding forus greater security in the use of a tiny electric wire than in massivewalls of steel and intricate lock devices. But here is a case in which,it seems, every known protection has failed. We can't afford to passthat by. If we have fallen down we want to know how, as well as tocatch the burglar."

  "How are the signals given?" I asked.

  "Well, when the day's business is over, for instance, Schloss wouldswing the heavy safe doors together and over them place the doors of awooden cabinet. That signals an alarm to us here. We answer it and ifthe proper signal is returned, all right. After that no one can tamperwith the safe later in the night without sounding an
alarm that wouldbring a quick investigation."

  "But suppose that it became necessary to open the safe before the nextmorning. Might not some trusted employee return to the office, open it,give the proper signals and loot the safe?"

  "No indeed," he answered confidently. "The very moment anyone touchesthe cabinet, the alarm is sounded. Even if the proper code signal isreturned, it is not sufficient. A couple of our trusted men from thecentral office hustle around there anyhow and they don't leave untilthey are satisfied that everything is right. We have the authorizedsignatures on hand of those who are supposed to open the safe and aduplicate of one of them must be given or there is an arrest."

  McLear considered for a moment.

  "For instance, Schloss, like all the rest, was assigned a box in whichwas deposited a sealed envelope containing a key to the office and hisown signature, in this case, since he alone knew the combination. Now,when an alarm is sounded, as it was last night, and the key removed togain entrance to the office, a record is made and the key has to besealed up again by Schloss. A report is also submitted showing when thesignals are received and anything else that is worth recording. Lastnight our men found nothing wrong, apparently. But this morning welearn of the robbery."

  "The point is, then," ruminated Kennedy, "what happened in the intervalbetween the ringing of the alarm and the arrival of the specialofficers? I think I'll drop around and look Schloss' place over," headded quietly, evidently eager to begin at the actual scene of thecrime.

  On the door of the office to which McLear took us was one of thosesmall blue plates which chance visitors to Maiden Lane must have seenoften. To the initiated--be he crook or jeweler--this simple sign meansthat the merchant is a member of the Jewelers' Security Alliance,enough in itself, it would seem, to make the boldest burglar hesitate.For it is the motto of this organization to "get" the thief at any costand at any time. Still, it had not deterred the burglar in thisinstance.

  "I know people are going to think it is a fake burglary," exclaimedSchloss, a stout, prosperous-looking gem broker, as we introducedourselves. "But over two hundred thousands dollars' worth of stones aregone," he half groaned. "Think of it, man," he added, "one of thegreatest robberies since the Dead Line was established. And if they canget away with it, why, no one down here is protected any more. Half abillion dollars in jewels in Maiden Lane and John Street are easy preyfor the cracksmen!"

  Staggering though the loss must have been to him, he had apparentlyrecovered from the first shock of the discovery and had begun the fightto get back what had been lost.

  It was, as McLear had intimated, a most amazing burglary, too. The doorof Schloss' safe was open when Kennedy and I arrived and found theexcited jeweler nervously pacing the office. Surrounding the safe, Inoticed a wooden framework constructed in such a way as to be a part ofthe decorative scheme of the office.

  Schloss banged the heavy doors shut.

  "There, that's just how it was--shut as tight as a drum. There wasabsolutely no mark of anyone tampering with the combination lock. Andyet the safe was looted!"

  "How did you discover it?" asked Craig. "I presume you carry burglaryinsurance?"

  Schloss looked up quickly. "That's what I expected as a first question.No, I carried very little insurance. You see, I thought the safe, oneof those new chrome steel affairs, was about impregnable. I never losta moment's sleep over it; didn't think it possible for anyone to getinto it. For, as you see, it is completely wired by the Hale ElectricProtection--that wooden framework about it. No one could touch thatwhen it was set without jangling a bell at the central office whichwould send men scurrying here to protect the place."

  "But they must have got past it," suggested Kennedy.

  "Yes--they must have. At least this morning I received the regular Halereport. It said that their wires registered last night as though someone was tampering with the safe. But by the time they got around, inless than five minutes, there was no one here, nothing seemed to bedisturbed. So they set it down to induction or electrolysis, orsomething the matter with the wires. I got the report the first thingwhen I arrived here with my assistant, Muller."

  Kennedy was on his knees, going over the safe with a fine brush andsome powder, looking now and then through a small magnifying glass.

  "Not a finger print," he muttered. "The cracksman must have worngloves. But how did he get in? There isn't a mark of 'soup' having beenused to blow it up, nor of a 'can-opener' to rip it open, if that werepossible, nor of an electric or any other kind of drill."

  "I've read of those fellows who burn their way in," said Schloss.

  "But there is no hole," objected Kennedy, "not a trace of the use ofthermit to burn the way in or of the oxyacetylene blowpipe to cut apiece out. Most extraordinary," he murmured.

  "You see," shrugged Schloss, "everyone will say it must have beenopened by one who knew the combination. But I am the only one. I havenever written it down or told anyone, not even Muller. You understandwhat I am up against?"

  "There's the touch system," I suggested. "You remember, Craig, the oldfellow who used to file his finger tips to the quick until they were sosensitive that he could actually feel when he had turned thecombination to the right plunger? Might not that explain the lack offinger prints also?" I added eagerly.

  "Nothing like that in this case, Walter," objected Craig positively."This fellow wore gloves, all right. No, this safe has been opened andlooted by no ordinarily known method. It's the most amazing case I eversaw in that respect--almost as if we had a cracksman in the fourthdimension to whom the inside of a closed cube is as accessible as isthe inside of a plane square to us three dimensional creatures. It isalmost incomprehensible."

  I fancied I saw Schloss' face brighten as Kennedy took this view. Sofar, evidently, he had run across only skepticism.

  "The stones were unset?" resumed Craig.

  "Mostly. Not all."

  "You would recognize some of them if you saw them?"

  "Yes indeed. Some could be changed only by re-cutting. Even some ofthose that were set were of odd cut and size--some from a diamondnecklace which belonged to a--"

  There was something peculiar in both his tone and manner as he cutshort the words.

  "To whom?" asked Kennedy casually.

  "Oh, once to a well-known woman in society," he said carefully. "It ismine, though, now--at least it was mine. I should prefer to mention nonames. I will give a description of the stones."

  "Mrs. Lynn Moulton, for instance?" suggested Craig quietly.

  Schloss jumped almost as if a burglar alarm had sounded under his veryears. "How did you know? Yes--but it was a secret. I made a large loanon it, and the time has expired."

  "Why did she need money so badly?" asked Kennedy.

  "How should I know?" demanded Schloss.

  Here was a deepening mystery, not to be elucidated by continuing thisline of inquiry with Schloss, it seemed.