Part 11 (1/2)

”You did!”

”'Ow, sir?”

”Didn't you tell me the telephone company rang up and wanted you to put the receiver on the hook in the library?”

”I didn't 'ear it ring. James brought the word, sir.”

”Then, what happened upstairs?”

”'Ow do you know, sir? 'Ow'd you know it rang up there!”

”By elimination! It rang then, in Loris' room? You said 'nothing downstairs' in such a way I presume it rang upstairs.”

The butler stroked his chin. It was blue and close-shaved. The purple of his cheeks and neck had deepened. He glanced about the hallway. His eyes wandered toward the grand stairway which, coiled upward to the second story. ”I'm 'iding nothing, sir,” he said. ”Miss Loris often is called up at night. She's very popular, sir. I 'e'rd 'er telephone ringing once or twice while I was standing by this door, waiting for the master to come out--which 'e never did.”

Drew hesitated. He plucked out his watch and glanced at the dial. He turned swiftly. ”Stay right there,” he said as he parted the portieres and faced Delaney who wore the puzzled expression of a man baffled and entirely at sea.

”What did you find?” he snapped to the operative.

”Not a thing, Chief.” Delaney mopped his brow with his sleeve. ”Nothing at all!” he added. ”Everything regular. Modern--very modern house!

Thick, new, fireproof, soundproof, million-dollar building. No trapdoors or panels. No loose boards. No hole in the ceiling. No nothing to hang a ghost on. The gunman who shot Stockbridge went right up in blue smoke, Chief. I quit!”

Drew glided around the table and kneeled by the magnate's body. His swift, light-fingered touch went through the trousers and vest. The pockets he turned inside out. The watch attracted his attention. Its dial had been cracked by the fall. A splinter of gla.s.s pressed against the minute hand. He rose with a low cry. He pressed the repeater and listened to the time chimes. He counted the strokes. He had a test in a million. Had the watch been tampered with by the murderer, the chimes would have proved a lie. It was possible to set the hands to any position. It would be difficult to change both the hands and the repeater.

”Delaney!” he said with his dark eyes glowing, ”we've got the exact time of the murder. As I told the butler--it is very important. Both, chimes and hands, show that Stockbridge was shot at four minutes and eighteen seconds past midnight--this morning! This is a fine watch. It cost several thousand dollars. Robbery was not the motive. An ordinary crook, and they're all ordinary--with few exceptions--would have taken this timepiece.”

”That's all right,” said Delaney with a quick frown. ”That's fine, Chief, but--but how did that exceptional--crook get into this room? How did he get out? That's what I want to know!”

Drew combed his fingers through his black hair. He described a complete circle about the library, with his eyes taking in everything, before he faced Delaney.

”I don't know!” he said frankly. ”I don't want to think of it, either.

We'll turn the case over to other men for the time. Let them do some thinking. I believe we have secured everything we want.”

The detective dropped his glance to the telephone receiver upon the floor at Stockbridge's elbow. He stooped, grasped the silk-insulated cord, and fished it up.

”I'll try to get Central,” he said. ”This has been off a long while.

She may have sent the trouble-man again.”

Drew worked the hook of the 'phone up and down. He was answered after a short wait. The girl's surprised voice at hearing life at the end of a dead set of wires was drowned in the detective's request to get him, ”Spring 3100--quickly!”

”h.e.l.lo! h.e.l.lo!” said Drew as he got the connection. ”h.e.l.lo! Is this Spring 3100? It is? Who's talking? ... Jones? This you, Jones? ... Say, Jones, plug me in on the Fifth Deputy Commissioner's private house wire!... Sir? ... I don't care! ... This is Drew talking.... Drew! ...

D--r--e--w! ... That's right ... Drew, of Drew's Agency!”

The Detective turned. He eyed Delaney who was searching the floor about the millionaire's upturned shoes. He tapped the receiver against the transmitter's silver-plated edge. His eyes lifted. His lips hardened as the diaphragm of the receiver vibrated harshly.

”h.e.l.lo!” he answered tersely. ”h.e.l.lo! This you, Commissioner? Is this Fosd.i.c.k? ... This is Drew talking. Yes! ... Drew.... Yes! I say, Fosd.i.c.k, there's been a murder committed at Stockbridge's.... You know--the munitions magnate! ... The millionaire! ... Morphy's old partner.”

Drew waited a moment. He dropped his eyes upon the body below him.