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DOORS OF THE NIGHT
BY FRANK L. PACKARD
AUTHOR OF "Pawned," "The Night Operator," "The Adventures of Jimmie Dale," "The Wire Devils," etc.
A. L. BURT COMPANY Publishers -- New York
Published by arrangement with George H. Doran Company Printed in U. S. A.
COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
CONTENTS
I--ACROSS THE THRESHOLD II--THE CRIME III--INTO THE UNDERWORLD IV--ALIAS THE RAT V--THE SECOND-HAND DEALER VI--A MIDNIGHT VISITOR VII--WHISPERING SHADOWS VIII--A LEASH IS SLIPPED IX--BEHIND THE DOOR X--THE PIECES OF A PUZZLE XI--THE BACK ROOM AT JERRY'S XII--A CLUE XIII--THE CIPHER MESSAGE XIV--THE ROBBERY XV--THE ALIBI XVI--TWENTY-FOUR HOURS LATER XVII--THE MAN WITH THE CRUTCH XVIII--MIRRORED YEARS XIX--A HOLE IN THE WALL XX--THE CAT'S-PAW XXI--WITHOUT MERCY XXII--THE FIGHT XXIII--THE RENDEZVOUS XXIV--AGAINST TIME XXV--THE OLD WAREHOUSE XXVI--THE LAST PORTAL
DOORS OF THE NIGHT
I--ACROSS THE THRESHOLD
Billy Kane paused for an instant in the doorway of the room before him,as his dark, steady eyes travelled over the appointments in a sort ofmeasured approval such as a connoisseur who knew his art might bestowupon a canvas in which he found no flaw. The apartment was quite inkeeping with everything else that pertained to the palatial residence inthat upper Fifth Avenue section of New York. The indirect lighting fellsoft and mellow upon the priceless Oriental rug, the massive desk ofdark, carved wood, the wide, inviting leather-upholstered chairs, theheavy portieres that filled the window spaces and hung before the doors,the bookshelves that lined the walls almost ceiling high and that wereof the same dark, polished wood as the desk and chairs. There was luxuryhere, and wealth; but it was luxury without ostentation, and wealth thattypified only good taste and refinement.
He closed the door behind him, and began to pace slowly up and down theroom. And now he frowned a little. He had dined alone with his employeras usual, for Mrs. Ellsworth being an invalid was rarely in evidence,and David Ellsworth usually so genial an old gentleman, had not beenentirely himself. From the pocket of his dinner jacket Billy Kane tookout his cigarette case, selected a cigarette, and lighted it. Mr.Ellsworth had lingered in the dining room, and had said that he wouldcome presently to the library--that there was a little matter he wishedto attend to. There was nothing strange in that, for they often workedtogether here in this room in the evenings, and yet Billy Kane's puzzledfrown deepened. There was something certainly amiss with the oldmulti-millionaire tonight, and that anything should disturb the oldphilanthropist's tranquillity, except when his sympathies had beenaroused and the man's heart, that was softer than a woman's, had beentouched by some pathetic appeal, was decidedly strange.
Billy Kane continued his pacing up and down the room in long, athleticstrides, the great, broad shoulders squared back as his hands werethrust into the pockets of his jacket. It was far more than a feeling ofrespect or mere liking that he held for his employer, for there had comeesteem for the old gentleman's sterling qualities, and with the esteem asincere affection, and out of it all, very curiously, a sort offathering, or protecting interest for this man of millions.
The frown passed away, and Billy Kane smiled a little whimsically at thesomewhat quaint conceit. Fathering! Nevertheless, it was true! There wasscarcely an hour of the day that some appeal for charity, ranging from afew cents to many thousands of dollars, was not made upon DavidEllsworth--too many of them spurious, and it was his, Billy Kane's,self-appointed task to stand between his employer and these fraudulentattempts. All the world, at least all the world within reach, seemed tobe thoroughly conversant with the old gentleman's ask-no-questionsliberality--and to lose no opportunity in taking advantage of thatknowledge! For instance, though here he was forced to the belief that itwas genuinely worthy, there was the case of the deformed beggar, oneAntonio Laverto, who, during the last week, had taken up his station onthe corner a block away from the house. The beggar had already securedthe old gentleman's attention, and also a dollar or two every time DavidEllsworth passed; in return for which David Ellsworth had becomepossessed of a very pitiful life history, and also possessed of a desireto set the man squarely on his feet again.
Billy Kane paused abruptly in his stride, as his eyes rested on theportieres that hung before one of the two doorways at the lower end ofthe room. Behind that door, which was one of wood matching the otherdoors of the room, was a door of solid steel, and behind the steel doorwas one of the strongest vaults in the city of New York, and in thevault, besides the magnificent collection of rubies that nestled intheir plush-lined trays, a collection that, while but a hobby, had yetmade their owner even more famous and widely known than had hismillions, were thousands of dollars--_the money kept there for the solepurpose of being given away_! Eccentricity? Well, perhaps--but if so, itwas a very fine eccentricity, the eccentricity of one of God's ownnoblemen.
One of God's own noblemen! Yes, he had good reason to call DavidEllsworth that! Billy Kane's strong face softened. As a boy isacquainted with his father's companions, he had been acquainted withDavid Ellsworth for many years, it was true; but he had never known theother for his real worth until the last three months, during which timehe had been the retired magnate's confidential secretary. His father hadbeen an old friend of David Ellsworth; and a little more than threemonths ago his father had died, just as he, Billy Kane, had graduatedfrom Harvard. His father's estate, supposedly large, had turned out toamount to comparatively nothing; the net residue of the estate, whichhad just been wound up, being represented by the sum now at his creditin the bank, a matter of something less than five thousand dollars.Apart from that, there was nothing. His mother had been dead many years;and, with no ties to hamper him, he had been casting around for someopening where he could utilize his university degree in arts to the bestadvantage, when he had received the offer from David Ellsworth to act asthe latter's confidential secretary. He had accepted at once, and sincethen he had led a rather singular existence.
Billy Kane tamped out his cigarette on the edge of an ash receiver, andstood leaning with his back against the desk, facing the hall door. Yes,it was a very singular existence! His new home was veritably a palace,with servants at every beck and call. His work was not onerous; and hissalary was over-generous. He, in turn, had a private secretary, or atleast a most capable stenographer, who, having been long in DavidEllsworth's employ, took care of the daily routine; and it was mostlyroutine as far as business went, for the millionaire had long sinceretired from any active participation in the various interests throughwhich he had acquired his fortune. But the work, that is the bulk of it,had now taken on quite a different angle, due to his, Billy Kane's owninitiative, than had been thought of when he had accepted the position.He had not been there a week before he had realized that the oldphilanthropist was being victimized right and left by fraudulent appealsfor money. It had been sufficient simply to excite David Ellsworth'ssympathy in order to open the ever-ready purse. David Ellsworth hadinquired no further. He, Billy Kane, but not without protest from theold gentleman, to whom the loss of the money was nothing, but to whomthe uncovering of some pitiful fraud was a cause of genuine distress,had instituted a new regime, and had undertaken to investigate everycase on its merits.
The whimsical smile c
ame back to his lips. Born and brought up in thecity, he had imagined that he knew his New York; but the last threemonths had opened his eyes to a new world around him--the world of theBad Lands, with its own language, its own customs and its own haunts. Heknew his New York a great deal better now! Those three months hadbrought him into intimate touch with the dens and dives, and many of thehabitues of the underworld, since it was amongst those surroundings thathis investigations had mainly led him. He had even been in the heart ofthat sordid world no later than that afternoon.
Behind his back, Billy Kane's fingers were drumming a meditative tattooupon the desk. His train of thought had brought him back to the crippledItalian beggar, Antonio Laverto. The man was a pitiful looking objectenough--one of those mendicants commonly designated in the vernacular asa "flopper." His legs were twisted under him in contorted angles at theknees, and his means of locomotion consisted in lifting himself up onthe palms of his hands and swaying himself painfully along a foot or soat a time. Laverto's story, told in halting and broken English, wasequally pitiful. The man had been a photographer, an artist he hadcalled himself, and he had come to America a few years before from somelittle town in Italy, lured by the high prices that he had heard therich New World would pay him for his work. But within a few days oflanding he had met with an accident in a tenement fire that had crippledand maimed him for life. He had been practically destitute, his solepossessions being the camera and a few of the cherished photographs hehad brought with him. The camera had gone to pay for his support duringconvalescence; and subsequently, reduced to beggary, most of hispictures had gone the same way.
That, in substance, was the Italian's story. Billy Kane shook his headimpatiently. The man bothered him. He had been frankly skeptical andwholly suspicious at first; but investigation had only confirmed theman's story. Certainly, an Italian by that name, newly arrived in thecountry, had been badly hurt and crippled in a tenement fire a few yearsago, and had been treated in one of the city hospitals. That much, atleast, he had discovered! Also, no more than a few hours ago, he hadgone to Laverto's home and found the man existing in a small, miserableroom on the East Side, and surrounded by every evidence of squalor andabject poverty; and the man, he was obliged to confess, had got hissympathy too. There were two exquisite little photographs, landscapes,real gems of art, wrapped up in fold after fold of newspaper. Lavertohad shown them to him, and had told his story again, begging him to buyone of the pictures--and when he had produced the money the cripple haddrawn his treasures back, and had clutched them to his breast, and hadcried over them, and finally had refused to sell at all.
Billy Kane's fingers continued to drum on the desk. David Ellsworthwould undoubtedly want to know about Laverto to-night--and the manbothered him. He had no grounds for further suspicion, fairnesscompelled him to the admission that the man's story seemed true; andyet, based on nothing more tangible than intuition, there still lingereda doubt about the whole matter in his mind.
Billy Kane straightened up from the desk. Jackson, one of the footmen,had opened the door from the hall, and David Ellsworth, an immaculatelittle gray-haired old gentleman, in evening clothes, stepped into thelibrary.
The footman closed the door silently.
David Ellsworth wore glasses. He took them off, polished them withnervous energy while his blue eyes swept around the room, fixed on BillyKane's face, and swept around the room again. He cleared his throat onceor twice before he spoke.
"I've kept you waiting, Billy," he said abruptly. "You must have noticedthat I had finished dinner at the same time as yourself; but I have beenvery much disturbed and perplexed all day, and I have been trying tosolve a problem before saying anything to you."
"I hope there's nothing seriously wrong, sir," Billy Kane answeredquickly. "May I ask what----"
"Yes," said David Ellsworth, a sort of curious reluctance in his voice.He took a letter from his pocket, and handed it to Billy Kane. "It'sthis."
Billy Kane opened the letter--and, staring at the type-written words onthe sheet in his hand, suddenly an angry red tinged his cheeks andmounted to his temples. His eyes mechanically travelled over the linesagain:
Like father like son may be an old adage, but like a good many old adages its face value is not always to be relied upon. It might pay you to keep an eye on your confidential secretary--and on the contents of your vault.
A Friend.
Billy Kane laid the letter down upon the desk without a word--but hislips were tight.
"You understand, Billy," said the old millionaire eagerly, "that theonly reason why I did not show this to you immediately when I receivedit this morning was because I wanted, if possible, to formulate adefinite conclusion as to the motive that prompted the writing of thecontemptible thing. You understand, my boy, don't you? I could talk toyou then about it without hurting you. As for the actual letter itself,there is, of course, but one answer, and that is--this!"
David Ellsworth reached out for the letter--but Billy Kane had alreadypicked it up.
"You were going to tear it up, sir," he said deliberately. "I'd ratheryou wouldn't. There may be a chance some day of showing this to the curwho wrote it--and I wouldn't like to lose that chance."
"Then keep it, by all means!" agreed David Ellsworth. He nodded his headin vigorous assent, as Billy Kane restored the letter to its envelope,and placed the letter in the pocket of his dinner jacket. "So much forthat! But what do you make of it, Billy?"
"It's object is obvious enough," Billy Kane replied savagely. "Somebodyappears to have it in for me."
David Ellsworth was polishing his glasses again.
"You've told me that I was the most guileless man you ever knew, Billy,"he said, shaking his head slowly; "and perhaps I am, and then againperhaps I'm not--and perhaps it isn't always because I'm guileless thatI close my eyes to many things. But I guess, after all, that I can peeras far through a stone wall as the next man. I've had to do some prettystiff peering in the days gone by to get the few millions together thatI've got now. I mention this, Billy, so that you may not confuse myidiosyncrasies with--well, whatever you like to call it. Those dollars,my boy, didn't just drop into my hands--they were _thought_ there. Andso you think that letter means someone has it in for you? Think a littledeeper, Billy."
"I don't quite follow you," said Billy Kane, in a puzzled way.
"And yet it is quite simple--although I've spent a day over it!"returned the old millionaire, with a wry smile. "I have known you from achild. Nothing has ever occurred to shake my confidence in you. Theperson who wrote that letter was obviously acquainted with my pastfriendship for your father and my long knowledge of yourself, and, withnothing to back it up, he would be a madman indeed who would expect ascurrilous missive such as that to have any weight with me. Am Iright--or wrong, Billy?"
"Well; yes, sir--I suppose you're right," Billy Kane answered.
"I am sure I am," declared the old gentleman decisively. "Quite sure ofit! But suppose, Billy, that to-morrow, or at any time _subsequent_ tomy having received that letter, something _did_ occur here--what then?"
The old millionaire's face was grave. Billy Kane leaned sharply forward.
"What do you mean?" he questioned in a startled tone.
"Sit down there at the desk, Billy, and I'll tell you," said DavidEllsworth; and then, as Billy Kane obeyed, he stepped swiftly across theroom, opened the hall door, looked out, closed the door softly again,and from there walked to one of the two doors at the lower end of theroom, opened this, looked into the room beyond, and closed it again.
Billy Kane watched the other in frank amazement. The door that DavidEllsworth had just opened was the door of the "office"--the room thatduring working hours, which were from ten to five, was occupied by thestenographer. True, the room opened on the back hallway and had aseparate entrance from the courtyard in the rear, an entrance alwaysused by the stenographer, but it was always locked by Peters, thebutler
, at night, and he, Billy Kane, had the only other key.
David Ellsworth returned, and halted before Billy Kane's chair.
"No, I am not in my second childhood, Billy," he said quietly. "Thatletter was certainly not written without a purpose; and yet from everyangle that I have been able to view it, except one, it would have beenexactly that--without purpose. I believe it is the first step in acarefully laid plan that will divert, or fix, suspicion upon you."
Billy Kane shook his head in perplexity.
"A plan?" he repeated. "I don't understand."
David Ellsworth's only reply was to jerk his head significantly towardthe other of the two doors at the end of the room.
Mechanically Billy Kane followed the direction of the gesture with hiseyes; and then he was on his feet, his face suddenly grim and set.
"My God!" he murmured under his breath. "You mean----"
"Yes," said David Ellsworth evenly. "Why not? I couldn't tell you myselfexactly how much those stones in there are worth, but they are ranked asone of the most valuable single collections of rubies in existence, andcertainly the figures would run somewhere between two and three hundredthousand dollars. Besides, there's always a little cash there--you knowbetter than I do precisely how much at the present moment."
"Fourteen thousand five hundred odd," Billy Kane answered automatically.
"Quite so!" nodded the old millionaire. "Well, it's worth it, isn't it,Billy? I've never been afraid of any ordinary cracksman's attemptagainst that vault; but, if I am right now, this wouldn't be anyordinary attempt. I believe we are dealing with--_brains_. I believe,further, that instead of you and I being the only ones who know thecombinations, as we have imagined, they are known to someone else.Suppose, then, that the vault is found empty some morning? I immediatelyrecall to mind that letter. I remember that you are the only one to whomI have confided the combinations. And suppose that some additional cluepointing to you is left on the scene of the robbery? It would lookpretty black for you, Billy, would it not? Naturally the stolen stonesand money would not be found in your possession; but the plain, logicalsupposition would be that, not being a fool, and believing that you wereabove suspicion, you had secreted the proceeds of the robbery, and werepursuing what you considered the safest course--that is, to brazen itout and indignantly proclaim your innocence. The object of all this, ofcourse, being immunity for the real authors of the crime, for if youwere accused and convicted it is obvious that the police would look nofurther and consider the case closed."
Billy Kane did not reply for a moment. He had been startled at first,but now he was conscious rather of a slight sense of inward amusement.The old millionaire's deductions were, of course, plausible andpossible; but, also, they appeared to be a little labored, a littlefar-fetched, a little visionary. Apart from being based on a premisethat entailed somewhat elaborate preparations, there was one very weakpoint in the old gentleman's argument. The combinations being known onlyto the two of them, David Ellsworth had failed to explain how, or wherethe combinations had been obtained by a third party; and Billy Kane waseven more than ever confirmed in his mind that there was a very muchsimpler, and a very much more creditable motive for that letter--spite.Through his efforts there was more than one none too reputable acharacter who otherwise would have partaken liberally of the oldphilanthropist's bounty; and that was probably the secret of the letter.That the day's cogitations of David Ellsworth had resulted in thediscovery of a mare's nest was the way it struck Billy Kane now; but ifthe old gentleman found satisfaction in his deductions, he, Billy Kane,was of no mind to dispute them. There was nothing to be gained by it,and on occasions he had known even David Ellsworth to grow stubborn andmost unpleasantly irascible.
"You may be right, sir," Billy Kane said deliberately.
David Ellsworth's two hands fell on Billy Kane's shoulders, and pressedhim back into his chair again.
"So you think I may be right, do you?" There was a twinkle in the blueeyes. "Tut, tut! You can't fool the old man, Billy, my boy! What youreally think is that I've got a brain storm. But"--his voice grewsuddenly grave and agitated--"I _know_ I'm right, Billy--I _feel_ it.I'm as sure now, as though it had already happened. But we'll beat them,my boy! Take your pen, and a blank card--there are some in the topdrawer there. Being forewarned, all that's necessary is to change thecombinations. And I guess that will be an answer to their letter thatthey didn't expect!"
David Ellsworth was already across the room. Billy Kane took a smallblank card from the drawer of the desk, picked up a pen, and, withoutcomment, turned in his chair to watch the other. After all, little as heshared the old millionaire's alarm, the changing of the vault'scombination was a precaution well worth while under any circumstances.If it even became a habit, so much the better!
The portieres were swung back now, the innocent looking door thatmatched the others in the room was opened, and the nickel-plated knobsand dials of the massive steel inner door glistened in the light. Came afaint musical tinkle, as the dial whirred under David Ellsworth'sfingers; then, presently, a soft metallic thud, as the old millionaireswung the handle over and the bolts shot back. The heavy door movedslightly inward, there was the click of an electric-light switch, thevault was flooded with light, and from where he sat Billy Kane could seeinto the interior. It was as large as a small sized room, and built ofthe finest steel throughout. Steel shelves piled with document caseslined the vault, and at the far end was a huge safe of the most modernand perfected design. Billy Kane smiled a little to himself. In onething, at least, that David Ellsworth had said, the old millionaire hadindubitably been justified. The vault was as impregnable as humaningenuity and skill could make it, and there was very little indeed tobe feared from any ordinary attempt upon it.
A few minutes passed while David Ellsworth worked with the key used forchanging the combination and with the mechanism on the inner side of thedoor, and then he began to call out a series of numbers. Billy Kanejotted them down on the card.
"We'll test it now--call them back," said David Ellsworth; and then, asBilly Kane obeyed: "All right, Billy. Now we'll do the same thing withthe safe."
He moved down to the end of the vault, spent a moment or two over thesafe's dial; and, as this door in turn was swung open, Billy Kane caughta glimpse of the tiers of plush-lined trays that held the famous rubycollection, and of the score of packages of banknotes that lay neatlypiled in the compartments inside the safe.
Again David Ellsworth called out a series of numbers, and as beforetested the new combination; and then, from beside the open door of thesafe, he spoke abruptly:
"Before I lock up again, Billy, what about our friend Laverto? You wentdown there this afternoon, I believe?"
"Yes," Billy Kane answered--and frowned. "But there's no hurry about it,is there? I'm bound to confess that his story seems to be straightenough, and that I can't find anything wrong, but----"
David Ellsworth chuckled suddenly, as he reached inside the safe andtook out a package of banknotes.
"You've been laughing at me up your sleeve for fussing around with thosecombinations, my boy--I know you have. But you're the old woman of thetwo, Billy. If you couldn't find anything wrong, I guess everything isall right. If it isn't"--he chuckled again, as he closed and locked thesafe--"it would do my heart good to see someone put something over onyou!"
The light in the vault went out. The vault door was closed and locked,the outer door shut, the portieres drawn back into place, and DavidEllsworth, coming back across the room, dropped the package of banknoteson the desk.
"Take 'em to him, Billy," he smiled; "and take 'em to him now. He'llhave twelve hours more joy out of life than if you waited untilto-morrow morning." He picked up the card upon which Billy Kane hadwritten the combinations, and placed it in his pocket. "You've got abetter memory than I have, Billy," he observed, "and I guess you've gotthis down pat now; but I'm afraid I'll have to study the memo over a fewtimes before I take a chance on destroying it."
Billy Kan
e was paying little attention to the other's words; he wasriffling the banknotes through his fingers--they were of alldenominations, from hundred-dollar bills down to fives. It was, in fact,a package of loose bills that he remembered having counted that morning.
"Do you happen to know how much there is here, Mr. Ellsworth?" heinquired abruptly.
"Not precisely"--David Ellsworth peered over the rims of his glasses atthe package--"but I should say around a couple of thousand dollars.I--er--promised him that, if he turned out to be deserving, and I'd----"
"There are two thousand dollars here exactly," said Billy Kane a littlecurtly. "What I understood that you promised him was that you wouldstart him up in life again, but it doesn't require two thousand dollarsto start a man of his type going as a photographer."
"H'm! Don't you think so, Billy?" David Ellsworth's blue eyes weretwinkling, and he was drawling his words. "Well, let's see! Now, firstof all, judging from the photographic landscape he showed me, the man'sa real artist, and he ought to have the best of tools to work with. Agood lens is a rather expensive commodity. I'm not much up onphotographic apparatus, but I'll bet you could pay as high as a thousanddollars for one outfit. And then there's all the paraphernalia, and alittle place to furnish, and a little something to keep things goinguntil returns come in. Two thousand dollars--shucks, my boy! Indeed as amatter of fact, now that you call my attention to it and I come to thinkit over, Billy, I'm not sure that two thousand dollars is----"
And then Billy Kane laughed, and picked up the money, and went to thedoor.
"All right, sir, I'll go--at once," he said, laughing again.