Part 31 (1/2)

”Muller,” shot out Winters, ”we have just found Mr. Schloss dead!”

”D-dead!” he stammered.

The man seemed speechless with horror.

”Yes, and with his grips packed as if to run away.”

Muller looked dazedly from one of us to the other, but shut up like a clam.

”I think you had better come along with us as a material witness,”

burst out Winters roughly.

Kennedy said nothing, leaving that sort of third degree work to the detective. But he was not idle, as Winters tried to extract more than the monosyllables, ”I don't know,” in answer to every inquiry of Muller about his employer's life and business.

A low exclamation from Craig attracted my attention from Winters. In a corner he had discovered a small box and had opened it. Inside was a dry battery and a most peculiar instrument, something like a little flat telephone transmitter yet attached by wires to earpieces that fitted over the head after the manner of those of a wireless detector.

”What's this?” asked Kennedy, dangling it before Muller.

He looked at it phlegmatically. ”A deaf instrument I have been working on,” replied the jeweler. ”My hearing is getting poor.”

Kennedy looked hastily from the instrument to the man.

”I think I'll take it along with us,” he said quietly.

Winters, true to his instincts, had been searching Muller in the meantime. Besides the various a.s.sortment that a man carries in his pockets usually, including pens, pencils, notebooks, a watch, a handkerchief, a bunch of keys, one of which was large enough to open a castle, there was a bunch of blank and unissued p.a.w.n-tickets bearing the name, ”Stein's One Per Cent. a Month Loans,” and an address on the Bowery.

Was Muller the ”fence” we were seeking, or only a tool for the ”fence”

higher up? Who was this Stein?

What it all meant I could only guess. It was a far cry from the wealth of Diamond Lane to a dingy Bowery p.a.w.nshop, even though p.a.w.nbroking at one per cent. a month--and more, on the side--pays. I knew, too, that diamonds are h.o.a.rded on the East Side as nowhere else in the world, outside of India. It was no uncommon thing, I had heard, for a p.a.w.nbroker whose shop seemed dirty and greasy to the casual visitor to have stored away in his vault gems running into the hundreds of thousands of dollars.

”Mrs. Moulton must know of this,” remarked Kennedy. ”Winters, you and Jameson bring Muller along. I am going up to the Deluxe.”

I must say that I was surprised at finding Mrs. Moulton there. Outside the suite Winters and I waited with the unresisting Muller, while Kennedy entered. But through the door which he left ajar I could hear what pa.s.sed.

”Mrs. Moulton,” he began, ”something terrible has happened--”

He broke off, and I gathered that her pale face and agitated manner told him that she knew already.

”Where is Mr. Moulton?” he went on, changing his question.

”Mr. Moulton is at his office,” she answered tremulously. ”He telephoned while I was out that he had to work to-night. Oh, Mr.

Kennedy--he knows--he knows. I know it. He has avoided me ever since I missed the replica from-”

”s.h.!.+” cautioned Craig. He had risen and gone to the door.

”Winters,” he whispered, ”I want you to go down to Lynn Moulton's office. Meanwhile Jameson can take care of Muller. I am going over to that place of Stein's presently. Bring Moulton up there. You will wait here, Walter, for the present,” he nodded.