CHAPTER ELEVEN
"THE CLOSING NET"
Night was falling upon the greatest city in the world. After nightwould come the myriads of electric lights in the huge Broadwaysigns--the surface cars creeping through the snow-fall like glowworms--the muffled pedestrians and the chain-tired taxis, with theirwell-groomed patrons, hastening to ballrooms, cabarets and theatersmore luxurious than any dreamed of by Lucullus.
Into the tide of this forming stream of wealth, Drew's taxi turned andground northward through the drifts. The detective had given nodefinite address. He wanted the air of the Avenue for at least twoblocks, before he reached the Stockbridge mansion. He signaled as afamiliar corner came in view. He turned his overcoat collar up to hischin and stepped out, as the driver brought the taxi to a slow stop atthe curb.
"Stay around the corner!" he ordered. "Stay, till I send word. Here's adollar for supper. Get that and wait!"
The driver touched his cap and reached for the bill. Drew swungnorthward, threw back his head, and plowed along the snow-ladensidewalk. Delaney's statement over the telephone had stirred every dropof red blood in his body. Loris was in danger! This nerved him on. Heclenched his gloved fists as he reached the first side street. Hecrossed the wheel-churned snow, with his lips gripped in a hard whiteline. His eyes raised in heavy-lidded scrutiny of the towering turretsand spires of the mansion. Lights shone from its windows as if indefiance to the powers of darkness which encompassed the dwelling.
A snow-crusted form stepped out from a basement shelter. Drew raisedhis arm as a barrier when a figure of a man lurched in his direction.
"Hello, O'Toole!" he blurted, recognizing the operative. "What are_you_ doing here?"
O'Toole jerked a mittened finger in the direction of the mansion. "Ourlad's in there," he said, thrashing his arms and flipping his fingerfor a second time. "Harry Nichols!" he explained.
"S--o! The whole case seems to be gathering again. Every clue leadsthis way now. What did you learn to-day?"
O'Toole yawned. "I got on the job early," he said with frosty breath."I waited. The lad came down. He got in a taxi and I'm right after him.First he went to the Quartermaster's Offices at the Battery. Then hewent to Governor's Island. From there I trailed him to the Red CrossHeadquarters. He 'phoned Gramercy Hill 9764, at least three times."
"To the girl in the case?"
"Yep, Chief! He's gone on her. He tended to some funeral mattersconnected with Stockbridge, bought some flowers--three dozen lilies ofthe valley--then came on up here. I've been waiting a long time."
"Seen anybody about?"
"Delaney and some Central Office men--that's all! Shall I stay here?"
"Not here! Jump back in the alley and watch the junction-box. I thinkDelaney has been there. You'll find the snow melted in spots. Plantsomewhere, and keep your eyes open. Grab anybody you see tampering withthe wires to the house. I'm looking for trouble to-night. Theythreatened Loris with a letter this afternoon."
Drew did not stop to explain. He hurried on ahead of O'Toole, turned atthe iron-grilled gate, passed through and pressed the button.
A Central Office man with a gold-badge showing, jerked the door openand glanced out. He blinked sagely as he recognized the detective.
"All right!" said Drew. "Let me in!"
The door swung wider. Drew lunged through and turned. "What's new?" heasked, pointing a thumb over his shoulder. "Are those servants stillunder arrest?"
"Some of them, Inspector," grunted the Central Office man. "I can'ttalk much. Fosdick gave me hell for talking to a newspaper man. He leftword, though, that you could come in."
"Thanks!" Drew said dryly. "Thanks! That's kind of him. You are holdingdown this door?"
"Sure, Inspector! The butler and the second-man are down atHeadquarters. I don't like the job, but orders is orders."
Drew loosened his overcoat, removed his kid-gloves, stamped hissnow-covered shoes on the rug, and hurried past the library, wherestood a burly Central Office man on guard. He mounted the steps withthe running motion of a boy of fifteen. He glanced upward to wherevelvet-soft light glowed at the entrance to Loris Stockbridge's suiteof rooms. Delaney stood framed in the opening. His huge bulk blottedout the inner rooms. His face, seen in the high shadows, was long andgrim.
"She's in there," said the operative, raising his chin over his liftedarm. "Miss Stockbridge is in there. She's with her maid--one Fosdicktried to pinch--and Harry Nichols. She's got a notice by specialdelivery, that the coffin she ordered from the Hardwood Casket Company,of Jersey City, will be delivered to-morrow. She never ordered anycoffin, Chief. Ain't that dirt--to a girl like that? What d'ye think ofit?"
Drew's answer to Delaney's question was a grinding of teeth and a sharpoath of defiance. He clutched the operative's arm in a nipping grip. Heled him into the tiny reception-hall of the suite.
The detective paused on the threshold of a larger room. He dropped hishand from Delaney's arm. He stabbed sharp glances here and there aboutthe interior. He widened his eyes as they came to rest upon a furtherdoorway, which was hung with soft tapestries gathered to the side-wallsby cords of silk. Beyond this doorway, like the vista of some rarepainting, shone an inner light of a woman's shrine.
Silver and pearl and old rose blended into a bower such as is found inpalaces. Tiny medallions and plaques and miniatures--narrow framedstudies in oil--fans, vases, statuettes of ivory and rare china, ahundred choice and dainty objects of haute-art were in that splendidroom.
Drew advanced over a rug so soft and deep he felt like a peri enteringParadise. He brushed aside the tapestries and strode swiftly forward.His hat came off as Loris advanced to meet him from a large chamber,wherein the color scheme had been worked out in black and white with asuggestion of green-in-gold.
He forgot the material things of that apartment as he bowed gallantly.He thrust his hand forward and clasped strong fingers over her own. Thegrief of her father's death had widened her eyes and set them incircles of dark brows and tear-stained features. Her voice clutched inher throat as she tried to speak. Her hand was drawn from his slowly.It raised to her broad forehead beneath her blue-black hair, with apassing motion that dispelled some of the doubt within her. She smiledwanly. Her round, young breast rose and fell with the rustle ofperfumed laces. She swished her lavender gown behind her with a turn ofa white, supple wrist upon which was a tiny, diamond-studded watch ofsuperior make.
"Courage!" said Drew. "Have courage! They won't get you!"
"They--they," she breathed. "They have threatened me like theythreatened poor father. They sent a letter. Oh, I wish I were a man!"
Drew flushed beneath his olive cheeks. He reached upward and turneddown his overcoat collar. He laid his hat on a chair, braced hisshoulders, and stared around the room. His eyes wandered from the wallsto the inner opening. "Who's in there?" he asked.
"Harry--Harry Nichols. I telephoned for him. I was afraid. I admit I'mafraid, Mr. Drew. You know what they did to father?"
"Yes, I know. It was an error on my part. We did not take the properprecautions. But this time--we will!"
"I hope you do. I don't feel like myself, after last night. It came sosuddenly. I heard you people talking in the lower hallway. I went tothe bannisters and saw all the servants at the library door. Andthen--and then, I went down without a particle of warning. It was ashock, Mr. Drew."
"One I could have spared you," admitted the detective. "It waspreventable," he added, turning toward Delaney.
The operative stepped forward. He struck a chair with his foot andtumbled it over. Picking it up and setting it down on its legs, heflushed guiltily.
"Be careful!" snapped Drew. "Get me that letter this young ladyreceived from Jersey. Get it! We'll look it over right now!"
Delaney glanced at Loris. "She's got it," he said. "I gave it back toher."
Loris shuddered and pressed her hands to her breast. "I tore it up,"she whispered. "I was so excited and angry I tore it up. It's in thewaste-basket."
&n
bsp; "Fetch the basket!" said Drew to Delaney. "Go get it. We'll make thisroom our headquarters," he added, swinging about on one heel. "We'llstay right here and watch things, Miss Loris."
The girl nodded prettily. Her courage came back with flushed cheeks.She glanced up at Drew's strong jaw and face. The detective squared hisshoulder with a final shrug. "We'll stay here!" he said masterly."Though all the demons in hell are closing in on you, we'll stick.We'll get them this time! I've almost got my man. If he moves his pawnsto-night, we'll round up the whole bunch and send them to the chair!"
"Are there more than one?"
"Yes! One is directing--another or others are doing his will. Yourfather was slain in some mysterious manner which we have not, as yet,determined. The man, or men, who caused him to meet with death, lefttheir marks behind them--fingerprints--footprints, voices over wires,and other evidences of material deviltry. They blundered a score oftimes! They should have killed that magpie. They did not wear gloveswhen they should have worn gloves. They forgot, or overlooked, thattelephone calls can be traced. We've traced them. We've almostsucceeded. The trouble is, that time is short. What was in thatletter?"
Loris turned toward the inner room. Delaney, followed by Harry Nicholsin full uniform, appeared. The operative held out a handful of scrappedpaper.
"Ain't much to learn here, Chief. It's pretty well torn up. I rememberwhat it said, though."
"Repeat it!"
"It was from the Hardwood Casket Company of Jersey City. It was datedthis morning. It said that the coffin Miss Stockbridge ordered for thelady who was about to die in her family, would be delivered to-morrowafternoon by express at her town house, as ordered."
"The curs!" exclaimed Drew.
"Sure they are, Chief. The letter was signed by the manager. I think itwas the manager. I couldn't read his writing!"
"Let me see the scraps."
Delaney sorted them into a small stack and passed them to Drew. Thedetective lifted each fragment, held it to the light, and placed itinto his right overcoat-pocket. "I get it," he said. "It looks genuine.Did you telephone them?"
"Nope! I was a-waiting for you to come up here. There's a phone here.It's over there!"
Drew nodded. "I saw it," he said thoughtfully. "We better be carefulhow we use the phones of this house. They tapped the wires before, andthey can do it again. We're fighting very high-class devils."
"It doesn't seem real!" blurted Harry Nichols. "I thought that deathonly stalked in No Man's Land. It's right here, gentlemen!"
Drew frowned and shook his head. He glanced at Miss Stockbridge. Herubbed his hands softly. "No more danger," he warned in a confidentvoice. "We've got twenty Central Office men in the house or about theplace. No bank was ever better protected. There will be no real troubleto-night."
"That's what you said the other time, to father," Loris suggestedwithout thought. "You did--you remember? You were in the library and hefelt so confident nothing would happen. Something did happen!"
"I admit it!" Drew said with candor, "I admit everything, Miss Loris.I'm partly to blame. The trouble was, I underestimated my adversary. Aman should never do that. This time, though," he added with glazed eyesthat roamed the walls. "This time is going to be different. Now, howabout all your rooms? We must be sure that there is no slip. We must besure----"
"Sure, we must be sure!" interrupted Delaney. "I've looked everywhere,Chief. Leave that to me!"
Drew glanced at Loris, who had stepped toward Harry Nichols. He studiedthe picture the two made, with their heads close together. The captainheld himself defiantly, but with that certain polish which goes with afondness for the things of life worth having. He had chosen a ratherpretty girl, and upon her he had lavished his attentions. He had defiedStockbridge! This was motive enough for a crime. He was not thecriminal, decided Drew. There was that to the captain's resolute,though thick lips, and his wide eyes, which assured the detective hewould not stoop to low things to gain his ends. He had enlistedvoluntarily. He had worked hard at Plattsburg. He had served, and wasupon the eve of going to Pershing. No man with such a record would slaya girl's father to gain the girl.
The detective erased Harry Nichols from his mind. "You two," he saidcommandingly, "had better go into the library! I mean MissStockbridge's writing-room. Stay there, please, till Mr. Delaney and Inotify you. Who else, beside we four, are in this part of the house?"
"Only the maid," said Loris.
"Go in, please, and wait. I'm going to lock everything up. We're goingto take every precaution this time. Frankly, I don't see how any agencycan do more than we have already. Were we dealing with ordinary crooksor blackmailers, I would have you take a taxi and move to some FifthAvenue hotel. But it seems an unnecessary risk. This is the safestplace in the world, despite the letter from the casket company and theformer warning. What man can enter this place to-night--without ourpermission?"
"I'd like to see one!" blurted Delaney.
Harry Nichols offered his arm to Loris. They passed from the view ofthe two detectives with the locked, gliding stride of two dancers whomoved to slow time. Drew heard the portieres which led to thewriting-room rustle downward and settle into place. He passed his handover his forehead and breathed deeply.
"We'll get busy," he whispered tersely. "We'll search these roomsagain. Let's start with a definite foundation!"
Delaney grunted at the uselessness of this as he reached and took thedetective's overcoat which was peeled off and extended to him.
"Hang it on a chair," said Drew sharply. "Over there with my hat. Now,"he snapped, "what about the windows of this room, the little receptionhall and the bedroom over there? That's a bedroom, isn't it?"
"Sure, Chief! I frisked it good. The Central Office men were up hereearly in the morning. They went through everything. Fosdick, they say,was like a bull. He said the thing couldn't be done."
"It _was_ done!"
"Did you get any clue, Chief, as to how it was done?"
"It's as much a mystery as ever. But we're trimming the tree calledTruth with a broad ax. I'm going around this case to get the man or menwho did it. Then we'll find out how it was done!"
"Oh!" Delaney's expression was thought-laden. "Just thought of it,Chief. I got them plaster-of-paris casts. I got 'em down stairs. It wassome job, believe me. I took everything about that junction-box, afterI'd thawed the snow with hot blankets which a good-looking cook broughtto me."
"Go down and get them!"
Delaney hurried out through the tapestries of the room. Drew startedhis search of the apartment by a study of the windows and the catches.He opened one and glanced outside. Snow had drifted to the depth ofthree inches on the sill. This snow was unmarked. He examined all ofthe sills extending from the three rooms. He closed and locked thewindows. He backed off into the center of the reception room andstudied the situation from every angle. The furniture was fragile andin sets of such splendid periods his eyes closed over them. The rugsand tapestries--curtains and portieres--sheathings of yellowhand-painted silk from Nippon--rare ceramics and cloisonnes--a hugepeach-blow vase of the Ming dynasty and a hundred little jade andjasper knick-knacks were the outward evidence of wealth.
He opened the plate-glass cases and peered inside. He crawled under acouch and backed out dusting his hands. He tapped with slow knuckles along cheval-glass by the side of which was a tiny gold-bracket and asilver-plated telephone. He went the rounds of the walls, liftingpictures, portraits and little military oils by French painters of theFranco-Prussian period. He found nothing to excite his suspicion!
Entering a simple bedroom, with its tiled flooring and its single whitebed, he spared this as he passed to the bath beyond, which had nooutlet save a ventilating shaft securely barred by a bronze grating ofclose, fantastic-scrolled mesh.
Delaney's heavy steps were heard in the reception hall as Drewfinished. Striding out into the larger room he frowned as the operativedeposited a blanket upon a Persian rug and began to untie its corners.
"I go
t 'em here, Chief," explained the assistant with upturned face."There's five or six prints--all alike."
"What? Repeat that!" Drew dropped to one knee.
"Sure, Chief. There's only been one guy at that junction-box before thefreezing started. He made plenty of tracks. He came and went from thefence to the box. It's a small foot. There was plenty of prints madeafter the snow piled on top of these little prints."
"The operatives?"
"Sure, and the Central Office bunch! But these prints I got here arethe only ones under the snow. They stuck up when I melted away thesurface."
Delaney offered a plaster-cast of the top of a footprint. It wasroughly done. It had been made, like the others in the blanket, bypouring cold plaster within a retaining bulge of soap. The plaster hadhardened and brought out each detail. Drew traced his finger over thetoe. "Right foot," he said. "Now let's see the others!"
"Here's a left foot, Delaney," added the detective slowly. "Only oneleft and four right. That might happen. You didn't take them all. Well,bundle them up and plant them somewhere. Put them under that couch, outof sight. I've got an idea!"
"What is it, Chief?" asked the operative as he drew on the knots untilhe had gathered the corners together. "What's new? I can't see anythingin sight, at-tall, at-tall. One man--that's all I see."
"And that's _all_ I see--the trouble-hunter--Delaney!"
"But what about the tall guy who looked like a German? The fellow thetrouble-man saw getting over the fence and beating it for FifthAvenue?"
"He didn't leave any tracks!"
"Ah, Chief, get out! That ain't human!"
Drew paced the floor with his hands clasped behind him. He wheeled withsudden energy. "Go, you!" he exclaimed with a pointing finger. "Hurryout of this house and telephone Gramercy Hill Exchange. Tell thesuperintendent to send over that trouble-man. I want to compare theseprints with his shoes. He couldn't have been lying. There's no objectin that! But, Delaney, how could a man tap in on that junction-box andnever leave prints in the snow? That's my question!"
"How could one shoot a man in a sealed room, Chief? There ain't muchdifference!"
Drew snatched out his watch. "Hurry," he said. "Get over to GramercyHill Exchange--it's only three blocks from here. Ask Jack Nefe, orwhoever is in charge, for the trouble-man who fixed the phone lastnight. He'll be able to tell us what part of the fence the tall fellow,who looked like a German, got over. Perhaps he wasn't at thejunction-box at all!"
"Who, Chief?"
"The tall fellow! Perhaps he was skulking about the windows at theback."
"Perhaps he was a ghost," said Delaney to himself as he lunged throughthe tapestries toward the staircase which led down from the third floorof the mansion.
Drew crossed the room and rapped softly on a panel by the portiereswhich covered the opening to the reading-room and library. He heard amuffled word of warning. Loris Stockbridge glided across the rugs andpeered out. Her face was set and tear-stained. She had been sobbingupon an olive-drab shoulder.
"Pardon," said Drew with a slight sigh. "I beg pardon, MissStockbridge. I want to look over the sitting-room and examine thewindows. Where is the maid?"
Loris touched her eyes with a handkerchief drawn from her breast. Shereplaced this and nodded over her shoulder. She parted the portiereswith her unjeweled right hand. "The maid," she said softly, "is in herroom. That's back of this reading-room. Shall I call her?"
"You and Mr. Nichols come in here, please," said Drew. "I'll knock onthe maid's door and look her over. We can't be too careful--rememberthat. It's getting late," he added with candor.
Drew allowed Harry Nichols and Loris to pass him as he held theportieres for them with a thoughtful bow. He crossed the reading-room,examined the books and cases, glanced under a low divan, and saw to itthat each window was latched before he knocked lightly upon a furtherdoor which was hidden by curtains.
A maid appeared, in smart white apron and pursed lips of inquiry. Drewregarded her not unkindly. He ran his eyes up and down her trim figurefrom the black bow in her brown hair to the wide ribbons which lacedher trim French shoes.
"How long have you been with Miss Stockbridge?" he asked.
_"Merci, Monsieur!"_ she courtesied. "It has been for zee longest time._Cinq--sept, annees, monsieur,"_ she counted mentally.
"Good!" said Drew closing the door lightly. "Good little girl. We won'tbother you the rest of the night," he added as he turned a good key ina perfectly good lock and dropped the curtains.
"Now!" he said with a final glance about the reading-room, with itsmorocco-bound tomes and glowing lights. "Now, let the worst come! Letthat come what may!"
He strode through to the reception room, glanced slit-lidded at Lorisand Nichols, who had seated themselves in the deeper recess of asplendid alcove, and hurried to the hall where Delaney was hastilyremoving his coat, and showing other evidences of some answer to hisquest at the telephone exchange.
"Well?" asked Drew as the bulk of the big operative loomed through thetapestries. "Well, what did you find out over there?"
"Enough, Chief!" Delaney's voice was hard. He glanced at Loris andNichols. His right eye closed in a warning wink of caution.
"Come into this other room," said Drew. "Come right in, Delaney. Thisway!" Drew lifted the portieres, then dropped them after the operativehad stumbled forward.
"What did you find?" he asked into Delaney's ear. "Out with it!"
The operative glanced about the reading-room. He blinked at the glowingelectrics. He recovered his voice as he drew in a deep breath whichbulged his chest to barrel proportions.
"I went," he said huskily. "I went to Gramercy Hill Exchange. Found thesuperintendent.... Fellow, you told me to find, Chief ... I draws himto one side.... I asked about this trouble-hunter.... He ups like I'dhit him.... He says fellow quit to-day.... Says fellow.... Says he wasno good.... Says he was tapping joints instead of soldering them. Sayshe only hired him on account of the shortage of electricians andhelpers ... because of the last Army draft."
"Did you get his address?"
"I got it, Chief.... It is over on Fifty-third Street near theRiver.... I didn't go.... I wanted to see you first.... There's more."
"Out with it!"
"The superintendent says he never sent that trouble-hunter over herelast night.... There's a record of sending another man named Frisby."
"Did you see--Frisby?"
"I did, Chief."
"What did he say?" Drew's fingers had clutched the operative's arm."What did he say?" he repeated grimly.
"Said, that Albert--that's the trouble-hunter--had stopped him on theway over here and took his place.... Said, he was satisfied.... Albertcould have _all_ the jobs on a night like last night. That's just whatFrisby said, Chief!"
Drew loosened his fingers from Delaney's arm and turned slowly. Theportieres swayed slightly. They shook anew. They parted at the centerand revealed Loris Stockbridge. Her eyes burned the soft gloom withglazed interrogation. She raised her white hand and pressed back herhair from her forehead. She stepped forward with her knees strikingagainst the stiff satin of her skirt. She swung from Delaney towardDrew.
"What were you saying?" she asked imperiously. "What did you say abouta trouble-man? What was it, please?"
"I'm lookin' for one, Miss!" declared Delaney. "I was over at thetelephone company's exchange lookin' for the lad that was here lastnight and fixed the junction-box in the yard back of the house. Mr.Drew wants him."
Loris turned toward the detective. "You want him?" she asked softly."What do you want him for? Please tell me. I don't like him, at all."
It was Drew's turn to draw in his breath. He eyed the girl. He tried tofathom the reason for her simple question and her objection. "MissLoris," he said, shrugging his square shoulders. "Why, it's a slightmatter. The man has disappeared. We can't find him. He'sflown--perhaps."
"Is he a little chap with a satchel and a testing set?" she asked. "Anice-mannered, soft-voiced little man who was so obl
iging, and yetso--oh! I don't know what I have against him. He's so sly--don't youthink so, Mr. Dr--e--w?"
"When did you ever see him?" asked Drew, feeling the blood rising tohis cheeks at a thought which surged through his brain.
"Meet him? Why! he was here early this afternoon. He was all over thehouse!"