Part 17 (2/2)
”Then you would naturally recollect anything of an unusual nature which might have taken place during the last few days, would you not?”
”Yes... I think so,” returned the girl, somewhat guardedly.
”A telephone call late at night?” suggested Marsh.
The girl was busy with her switchboard for a time. Then she leaned back and looked at Marsh. ”See here,” she said, ”I'd do most anything to help find that man, but I can't take a chance on losing my job.”
Marsh now knew that he was going to get important information if he handled the matter diplomatically.
”Remember,” he explained, confidentially, ”I am not a regular detective. I have nothing to do with the city police department.
There will be no publicity attached to anything I learn. I am merely looking up confidential information for Mr. Hunt, who, as you know, has charge of Mr. Merton's business.”
The girl was again busy at the switchboard, and when at last there came a pause, she looked carefully around to see that no one else was within ear shot. Then she leaned toward Marsh.
”He got a telephone message at twelve o'clock on Monday night,” she whispered.
”You mean last Monday?” questioned Marsh. He recollected that Merton had been reported missing for ten days.
The girl nodded.
”Of course, at that hour,” suggested Marsh, ”you were not very busy and would therefore be likely to listen in on the wire.”
”The very idea!” she exclaimed, indignantly.
”Look here,” said Marsh. ”If I can rescue Merton from the predicament he is probably in, someone will be handsomely rewarded.
Is it not a safe bet that the person who gives me the correct information to put me on the right track, will be pretty well taken care of?”
The girl sat in thoughtful silence.
”And if Mr. Merton should happen to be dead, Mrs. Merton would be very grateful, indeed, to anyone who had helped her learn the truth,” Marsh added.
Again the girl looked cautiously about. The hint of an ample reward was having its effect.
”If I lose my job...” she warned, and then again leaned toward Marsh. ”I listened in, all right. It was a man who said his name was Nolan. From what I heard I think he used to be a chauffeur for Mr.
Merton. He said he was in an awful hole, that he was unjustly accused of theft, and that they were about to lock him up. He asked Mr. Merton if he could do anything to keep him out of this disgrace.
Mr. Merton said he would try and asked where he was. Nolan said he was being detained in the apartment of a man named Ames, at some place on Sheridan Road--I forget the exact number.”
”Did Mr. Merton go there then, do you know?”
”I couldn't tell you that. He simply said, 'All right,' and hung up the receiver.”
”You have given me just the information I needed,” said Marsh. ”Your job is in no danger if you let this matter rest just between us two.
If anyone else should question you, you don't know anything. And above all, forget about me. You get the idea?”
”You bet!” replied the girl, as she turned again to her switchboard.
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