Part 27 (2/2)
She glanced up at Drew's strong jaw and face. The detective squared his shoulder with a final shrug. ”We'll stay here!” he said masterly.
”Though all the demons in h.e.l.l are closing in on you, we'll stick.
We'll get them this time! I've almost got my man. If he moves his p.a.w.ns to-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. Your father was slain in some mysterious manner which we have not, as yet, determined. The man, or men, who caused him to meet with death, left their marks behind them--fingerprints--footprints, voices over wires, and other evidences of material deviltry. They blundered a score of times! They should have killed that magpie. They did not wear gloves when they should have worn gloves. They forgot, or overlooked, that telephone calls can be traced. We've traced them. We've almost succeeded. The trouble is, that time is short. What was in that letter?”
Loris turned toward the inner room. Delaney, followed by Harry Nichols in full uniform, appeared. The operative held out a handful of sc.r.a.pped paper.
”Ain't much to learn here, Chief. It's pretty well torn up. I remember what it said, though.”
”Repeat it!”
”It was from the Hardwood Casket Company of Jersey City. It was dated this morning. It said that the coffin Miss Stockbridge ordered for the lady who was about to die in her family, would be delivered to-morrow afternoon 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 it was the manager. I couldn't read his writing!”
”Let me see the sc.r.a.ps.”
Delaney sorted them into a small stack and pa.s.sed them to Drew. The detective lifted each fragment, held it to the light, and placed it into 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 careful how we use the phones of this house. They tapped the wires before, and they can do it again. We're fighting very high-cla.s.s devils.”
”It doesn't seem real!” blurted Harry Nichols. ”I thought that death only stalked in No Man's Land. It's right here, gentlemen!”
Drew frowned and shook his head. He glanced at Miss Stockbridge. He rubbed his hands softly. ”No more danger,” he warned in a confident voice. ”We've got twenty Central Office men in the house or about the place. No bank was ever better protected. There will be no real trouble to-night.”
”That's what you said the other time, to father,” Loris suggested without thought. ”You did--you remember? You were in the library and he felt 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. A man should never do that. This time, though,” he added with glazed eyes that roamed the walls. ”This time is going to be different. Now, how about all your rooms? We must be sure that there is no slip. We must be sure----”
”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 studied the picture the two made, with their heads close together. The captain held himself defiantly, but with that certain polish which goes with a fondness for the things of life worth having. He had chosen a rather pretty girl, and upon her he had lavished his attentions. He had defied Stockbridge! This was motive enough for a crime. He was not the criminal, decided Drew. There was that to the captain's resolute, though thick lips, and his wide eyes, which a.s.sured the detective he would not stoop to low things to gain his ends. He had enlisted voluntarily. He had worked hard at Plattsburg. He had served, and was upon the eve of going to Pers.h.i.+ng. No man with such a record would slay a girl's father to gain the girl.
The detective erased Harry Nichols from his mind. ”You two,” he said commandingly, ”had better go into the library! I mean Miss Stockbridge's writing-room. Stay there, please, till Mr. Delaney and I notify 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 going to take every precaution this time. Frankly, I don't see how any agency can do more than we have already. Were we dealing with ordinary crooks or blackmailers, I would have you take a taxi and move to some Fifth Avenue hotel. But it seems an unnecessary risk. This is the safest place in the world, despite the letter from the casket company and the former warning. What man can enter this place to-night--without our permission?”
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