Part 13 (1/2)

The others agreeing, the three men then walked down to the little restaurant. As it was an off hour they were able to get a table in a secluded corner where their conversation could not be overheard.

”I think this lunch should be on me,” said Morgan, as he looked at Marsh with a twinkle in his eye.

”No,” objected Marsh, ”I should hardly call you a loser. Your work has really disclosed a lot.”

”Anyway, Headquarters will think you're doing something, Morgan,”

broke in Tierney. ”All those descriptions you shot over the 'phone today looked as if you were getting the dope on somebody.”

”I suggest,” said Marsh, ”that as you fellows have been my guests most of the day, you now be my guests for luncheon. Order what you like. You can get anything here from waffles to a full meal.”

”A big, fat, juicy steak for mine!” cried. Tierney.

”Yes, you're an invalid, aren't you!” scoffed Morgan.

Tierney rubbed the b.u.mp on his head and grinned.

They gave their orders to the waitress, and while waiting, Morgan explained Marsh's partic.i.p.ation in the work in reply to an anxious reminder from Tierney. The startling shattering of the net, which they believed they had drawn around Marsh, for once stunned Tierney into silence. When their hunger had been partly satisfied, Morgan reminded Marsh that they had not yet a.n.a.lysed the peculiar situation discovered in the Atwood apartment.

”I hurried you fellows out so we could talk over that suitcase,”

Morgan explained. ”Of course, I've got some ideas of my own, but I'd like to know what you think, Marsh.”

”Well,” replied Marsh, ”if you and Tierney will tell me exactly what you discovered, I'll tell you what I think.”

”My part's easy to tell,” said Tierney. ”I didn't find anything suspicious. I spent most of the time turning over a lot of pink silk and lace things that almost made me blush. There were no letters or photographs, and as far as I could see, none of the things had been disturbed until I turned them over myself.”

”And I,” said Morgan, ”found the mess that you saw in the maid's room. I also discovered that the back door was unlocked.”

”I had a theory,” explained, Marsh, ”and what you say about the back door clinches it. Now, suppose you were a crook, and had committed a crime that, through careless management, had brought the police right next door to your headquarters; the place you had hoped to reserve for emergencies, as a matter of fact. Suppose you had reason to believe that they would begin to suspect you. You have long had a plan ready to throw the police off the scent, if anything should ever happen, by pretending to make away with yourself. You put the first step of this plan into execution by sending a letter stating that you are now as good as dead. Then you suddenly remember that at your refuge you have left some important evidence; something that, if discovered, might offset your well-laid plans. What would you do?

You'd try to get that evidence, wouldn't you?”

”That is precisely what happened. Atwood, accompanied by one of his men, who was to stand guard, returned to his apartment to secure that almost forgotten evidence. Now, the man he left on guard heard some familiar voices, or perhaps a name he recognized. He overlooked his duty for the moment and tried to listen. He was discovered.

Naturally, his first thought was of himself, and he made his escape.

Up in his apartment, Atwood, who had secured what he sought, is ready to go, but is delayed by this disturbance in the hall. He doesn't know exactly, what it is, so he sticks close. Then he thinks of making his escape down the back stairs, but unfortunately some of his feminine neighbors are gossiping on the stairs below. He could not go down that way without attracting attention that might prove awkward later. Suddenly he hears the door of his apartment open, and some person enter. He watches, and discovers that his daughter has come home, alone. Now, if she should see him, his well-laid plan is ruined. Its greatest success lies in her honest conviction that he is really dead. He is trapped; front, rear and on the premises. He is desperate. Something must be done quickly. In a favorable moment he springs upon the girl from behind and renders her unconscious with chloroform. He finds the back stairs still closed to him, and in his haste forgets to lock the door as he closes it. He finds a man keeping guard on the front stairs. He decides quickly that he can deal better with this man than the women of the back. He watches and waits, leaving the door open for a quick retreat. His opportunity comes when this man's attention is directed to the lighting of a pipe. In a flash he is down the stairs, knocks the man unconscious, and goes out the front door. The next minute he is lost in the crowds on the street and is free.”

”That, gentlemen, is my explanation of what happened in the house today. Of course, it is largely theory, but I believe it fits the case uncommonly well.”

”I'll say you're there!” cried Tierney.

”Yes,” Morgan agreed. ”You talk as if you had been a spectator of the whole occurrence. I doubt if a clearer explanation could be made, and I think you came pretty near the truth when you said a little while ago that we actually had uncovered something today.

There is still a mystery of some kind, but thanks to you, we are now in a position to take some definite steps toward solving it.”

”Still, there is one illogical point in your surmise. The letter from St. Louis arrived sometime this morning. If Atwood was in Chicago Tuesday morning, how did he get that letter off, so quickly?”

”The trouble with an a.n.a.lysis based chiefly on speculation, Morgan, is that many points may seem illogical and unexplained. We can only rely definitely upon the outstanding features. However, I never adopt any explanation unless it has a basis in possibility. You remember that a while ago I told you I thought that shot was a mistake--that it was never intended a shot should be fired. Whoever was engaged in that occurrence knew that the shot would lead to a police investigation, and once the police start, there is no telling where the matter may end. To head them off quickly, is it not possible that someone left immediately for St. Louis to post that letter?”

Morgan nodded. ”It's straining a point, but it's quite possible, Marsh. At least, we have no better explanation.”

They had finished their meal, and after Marsh settled the bill, parted on the sidewalk; Marsh to return to his apartment and await developments there, while Morgan and Tierney undertook some investigations which Morgan had in mind.