Part 36 (2/2)
”There's a good reason,” repeated Drew. ”You are not in some booth at Forty-first Street to make the connection. Morphy is in the strongest cooler. He's booked for twenty years. After that he'll get more. He can't help you!”
”Oh, you coppers,” said the trouble-man. ”Just give me five minutes and I'd show you. I don't hold anything against the girl. I never saw her before.”
”You lie!”
”Why don't you take these cuffs off-a-me? I can't hit back.”
”I'd sooner take the chance outside,” said Drew, glancing at Loris.
”I'd do it there!”
Delaney tightened his grip and half held the trouble-hunter in the air.
He raised on his toes with the strain.
”Oh, don't!” exclaimed Loris. ”I'll have to ask you to stop this. I can't let it occur in my house!”
”Miss Stockbridge,” said Drew with soft rebuke. ”Miss Stockbridge, I've been in the detective business for twenty years. I never saw in that time a more dangerous man. He is the super-type who usually falls through the errors of other men. This fellow has brains. He's an expert in telephony and in wireless. There are a number of patents in the patent office under his name.”
”Then he may be innocent, Mr. Drew.”
”He's as guilty as the Kaiser!” exclaimed Delaney, twisting the prisoner around. ”Look at him. He's been trying to murder the finest little lady in the country. She never harmed anybody. She's devoting most of her time to Red Cross work and the--Army,” added the big operative with a touch of brogue as he glanced at Nichols.
”But he has not said that he murdered father,” said Loris.
”Sure an' he won't say it. I know the breed of this snake. He wants nothing used against him in the trial. He'll have the evidence of us four to show that he didn't say anything. I never saw an innocent man who wouldn't talk!”
”We're getting nowhere,” objected Drew, taking command of the situation. ”Take him out, Delaney, and turn him over to the Central Office bunch. They'll take him down to Fosd.i.c.k!”
The prisoner lifted his manacled hands. He dropped them after a slow glance at Drew's square jaw.
”Come on!” said Delaney with a jerk backward.
”Wait!”
Drew and Nichols leaned forward. ”Well?” asked the detective, as the prisoner bowed his head. ”Well? Well?”
”Is that true about my brother--Morphy?”
”It is!” Drew said with ringing conviction. ”It's true! He's out of this world. He's buried alive and the key has been thrown away.”
”The jig is up, then,” said the trouble-man, turning toward the telephone. ”Let me telephone,” he said in a whisper. ”I want to use it,” he repeated faintly. ”I'll show you how that--that Stockbridge died.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
”THE VOICE ON THE WIRE”
The prisoner lifted his manacled hands and held them toward Drew. ”Let me loose,” he said, ”and I'll explain everything that I've done! I want it off my mind. I won't sleep until you people are satisfied. I know you--you copper! I know Fosd.i.c.k--the third degree artist.”
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