Part 31 (2/2)
”Toward some business complications,” said Gibbs, promptly. ”You see, Sir Herbert Binney was putting over an awful big deal in that matter of his Bun business. He had d.i.c.kered with several big bakery companies and he was a shrewd man at a bargain.”
”And he was in bad with some of the men he was bargaining with,”
vouchsafed Peters, who was a privileged partic.i.p.ant in the conversation, because Gibbs hoped by this means to learn something from the valet.
”Who, for instance?” demanded Bates.
”Graham, of the Popular Patisserie concern; Vail, here in the house, and Crippen of Crippen's Cakes.”
”Nothing doing,” returned Gibbs, shortly. ”I've dug into all those issues. He was off with the Patisserie people weeks ago. He finished discussion with the Vail company some days since, and the only one pending was the Crippen bunch.”
”Yes, and my aunt says he expected to see Crippen the night he was killed.”
”Well, he didn't,” returned Gibbs. ”I've looked up Crippen's alibi and it's gilt-edged. Vail was in the elevator with Bob Moore at the time of the murder,--that lets him out and the Patisseries are back numbers. I mean they got through with Binney's Buns as a working proposition, long ago.”
”They might have come back to it,” suggested Bates.
”Sure they might,--so might Crippen or Vail. But they didn't,--or if they did, we've no tiniest speck of evidence of it. If you can get any, go ahead. You don't know of anything against the Bakery men, do you, Peters?”
”No, sir. But Mr Crippen and Mr Vail have both been here----”
”Here! In Sir Herbert's rooms?” cried Bates. ”What for?”
”Mr Vail, he just dropped in, as he was pa.s.sing by, and he looked round the room, like in idle curiosity. He said, 'Poor old chap, he was a good sport,' and went away. That wasn't so strange, for he often used to drop in for a chat with my master. But Mr Crippen, now, he never came here, that I know of, while Sir Herbert was alive. But the day after he died, Mr Crippen comes with a sort of determined air, and he wants to look round,--and more, he wants to look over Sir Herbert's papers. Of course, I didn't let him do that, but it seemed sorta queer,--didn't it, now?”
”Maybe and maybe not,” said Gibbs. ”I suspect there might have been a letter from himself that he wanted to get possession of, or something like that. I say, as I have said from the first, if it were not for the written paper, I might have suspected these business men, but I'm sure that's the very reason Sir Herbert did write the paper, so we would not go off on a wrong tack. It proves to me the determination of his strong mind to lead us in the right direction and not let us pursue the most obvious but mistaken course of looking into the Bun matters.”
”I agree with you on the face of things,” said young Bates, with a sigh, ”and if you hadn't mentioned Miss Prall, I'd let you go your own gait, but now you have mentioned her, I shall get into the game myself and spare no effort or expense to dig up the truth! And, first of all, I'm going back to Bob Moore. I don't think he knows anything more than he's told, but I do think I can learn more from him now I've got my mad up!”
”Come on, I'll go with you,” and Gibbs accompanied the young man to the elevator.
Moore was not in the house, and Bates, determined to learn something, went to Julie Baxter, who was at her switchboard.
He took her, Gibbs following, to a small reception room, where they could be by themselves.
”Now, Julie,” Bates said, ”you've got to come across with the true story of your doings the night of the murder. You are not suspected, but you will be if you don't 'fess up. It's a fool thing to do, to refuse to tell, when continued silence may get you in very bad. So, out with it.”
”You did the same thing yourself, Mr Bates,” and Julie glared at him.
”You refused to tell----”
”But I'm not a woman; they can't suspect me. Also, I'll tell, if I have to. My story won't incriminate me. Go ahead, now,--let's hear.”
”I'll tell where I was, if you'll promise not to tell anybody else.”
Julie looked obstinate, though evidently a good deal frightened.
”I'll promise, if the secret can be kept without hindering our investigation. Agree to that, Gibbs?”
The detective agreed, and Julie went on. ”Specially, I don't want Bob Moore to know. We're engaged and he's awful particular about where I go, when he isn't along. And I've never gone any place or done anything he wouldn't want me to, except that very night. I went with a crowd on a trip to Chinatown. It wasn't any harm, but we were out late, and if he knew it, he'd give me the d.i.c.kens. You won't tell, will you? And, too, if the manager knew it, he'd think I was a different sort of a girl from what I am. So, please don't tell.”
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