WHAT THE CARETAKER SAW.
Early Monday morning Marsh started for Hubbard Woods, to carry out
his investigations regarding the Merton house These investigations
must be conducted along different lines from those he had
contemplated on Sunday, for his last interview with Hunt had
considerably changed his position in the matter. Hunt now regarded
him with suspicion, and it might be considered probable that he had
even gone so far as to warn the caretaker he had said was in charge,
against admitting Marsh.
Marsh intended to have another look at the place, but only a
surreptitious one from the cover of the woods. His chief object now
was to discover if neighbors knew anything about the place. As he
came down the road he recognized the turn, which the day before had
brought him directly in front of the gate, so he stepped to the side
of the road, and approached the turn with caution, for he did not
want anyone who might be coming from the house to find him near it
at this time.
As Marsh walked slowly around the bend in the road he saw the rear
of a closed car just disappearing between the gateposts. Only the
guarded way in which he had approached had prevented the occupants
of the car from seeing him. Marsh hurried to the shelter of one of
the big stone gateposts and peered around it in time to note that
the car was a large, black one of the limousine type. The next
minute it was lost to view around a curve in the driveway, and Marsh
paused for a moment to reflect. This might be Hunt's car bringing
him up for one of the visits which he had said he was accustomed to
make. On the other hand, it seemed too early an hour for a man of
Hunt's habits. Moreover, Marsh had reason to believe that Hunt's car
would be followed; and certainly there was no one else in sight now.
Marsh decided that the matter was worth investigating, and turned
into the concealing shadow of the woods. He made his way with
difficulty through the tangled underbrush, in what he believed to be
the general direction of the house. His guess was correct, for the
house was before him when he emerged, a few minutes later, from the
woods. He was protected from the sight of anyone in the house by a
screen of heavy shrubbery, which divided the lawn from the woods.
He found that in his unguided advance through the woods, he had
approached the house to the south, so that he saw not only the house
itself, but also had a good view of the garage at the back. The car
had evidently just been run into the garage, for a man was closing
the doors, while another stood nearby. A moment later, the two men
approached the house and passed out of sight. Marsh presumed that
they had used the back door, which was out of his line of vision.
While the distance was too great for him to see the men's features
distinctly, he knew that neither of them was Hunt, for he was now
sufficiently familiar with Hunt's figure to have easily recognized
it.
To have seen one man or woman around the premises would not have
surprised Marsh, as he was prepared to find a caretaker in charge.
That two men should drive up in an expensive automobile, however,
store it in the garage, and enter the house, as if perfectly at
home, was a peculiar incident. Caretakers do not usually have
automobiles; certainly not expensive limousines. If the family had
been away for a few days, it would be natural for the chauffeur, or
some of the servants, to use the car. But this house had been closed
for two years, and Marsh was under the impression that Merton had
not been using a private car. If he had been using a car it was
hardly likely that he would have let his old chauffeur go. The
telephone conversation, which the girl at the hotel had overheard,
between Merton and the supposed Nolan, indicated that Merton had
more than a casual regard for his ex-chauffeur, or the man would not
have appealed to him.
Marsh's suspicions being now definitely aroused, he decided not to
take a chance by showing himself in the open. This might very
probably be "the house in the suburbs," and he was not prepared to
battle alone with four or more desperate men. Though he lingered for
some time in his place of concealment, there were no further signs
of life, so Marsh, deciding that he was wasting valuable time, crept
cautiously into the woods and worked his way back through the
undergrowth to the main road.
The next step was to find a close neighbor. Having twice approached
the house from the north, Marsh knew that there was no residence
near it on that side. He turned south, therefore, and after going
only a few hundred feet, approached a gateway that was similar in
many respects to that at the entrance to the driveway of the Merton
home. It lacked the tall, distinctive pines, however, and a short
distance inside the gate he could see a cozy little gardener's
cottage, or lodge. Marsh was well pleased at this discovery, for he
had hoped to locate something of the kind. Servants are more easily,
questioned, more talkative, and usually in the possession of a
larger amount of neighborhood gossip, than their employers. He
approached the door and knocked.
"Come in," called a feminine voice, unquestionably Swedish in its
accent.
Marsh opened the door and found himself in a room that appeared to
be kitchen, sitting and dining room. A small, round table was set
for two, and a woman stood near the stove, preparing lunch or a
midday dinner. Marsh had not realized how quickly the morning was
passing. The woman's occupation reminded him that he was hungry, and
also gave him a sudden inspiration. He would offer to buy his lunch
here, for people always grow more friendly and communicative over a
meal.
"You want my husband? He bane come in a minute," the woman said,
when she saw Marsh.
"No," Marsh replied, "I wasn't looking for your husband. I've been
walking around the neighborhood, and thought perhaps I could get
lunch here. I'll pay you well for your trouble."
The woman smiled broadly. "Dere bane enough one more. Yust set
down--one, two minute."
Marsh laid his hat and coat on an old-fashioned couch that stood
against the wall, and was about to sit down beside them, when the
door opened again and a stocky man entered. His tanned face was
expressionless, and the eyes looked dully at Marsh. A lock of light
brown hair drooped over his forehead from under a cap, which he wore
well back on his head. The cap seemed to be a fixture, for it was
not removed while Marsh remained, and the detective had the humorous
thought that it might also serve as a nightcap.
"Aye give dis yentleman lunch," explained the woman.
The man grunted, took off his coat, rolled up his sleeves and sat
down at the table.
"Not very talkative," thought Marsh. Then the woman told him to sit
down at the place she had prepared for him. She heaped the three
plates with a stew-like mixture. Marsh did not recognize it, but he
liked the flavor. With this, and the fresh home-made bread, a cup of
strong coffee, and urged on by a healthy appetite, which his morning
in the frosty country air had made keener, he enjoyed his lunch.
To these people eating was just a part of their day's work, and
beyond the satisfying of a natural appetite, evidently produced no
special feeling of enjoyment. Contrary to his expectations,
therefore, Marsh did not find an opportunity to open a conversation.
One or two remarks were greeted merely with grunts, so he decided to
wait until the business of eating had been completed. The man's food
disappeared rapidly, including a second helping, and Marsh was
pleased to see him at last take out an old cob pipe and fill it with
an evil-looking, strong-smelling tobacco from a dirty paper package.
Marsh lit a cigarette, chiefly as a matter of protection.
"Have you lived here long?" inquired Marsh, addressing the man.
"Tree year," answered the woman. The man rolled his eyes in her
direction.
"I'm thinking of buying a place around here," continued Marsh. "This
house next door seems to be a nice place."
He nodded his head in the direction of the Merton home.
The man and his wife exchanged glances. She laughed, but the man's
face looked as solemn as its expressionless lines would permit.
"Et bane bad place," he muttered.
"Nels--he bane crazy!" snapped the woman. "Crazy widt de moonshane!"
"Moonshine!" repeated Marsh.
"Hootch," she explained. "Ole's hootch."
Marsh laughed, and Nels grinned, his features for the first time
showing an awakened interest.
Marsh thought quickly. The woman was evidently the "boss," but she
would not talk about something in which she had no faith. On the
other hand, the man undoubtedly had some knowledge of things which
Marsh desired to know. He decided to side with the man.
"You don't approve of hootch?" Marsh asked her.
"No--no!" she exclaimed vehemently.
"But it makes a strong man work harder--keeps up his health." Marsh
glanced at Nels, who showed appreciation of this defense of home-made
strong drink by grinning at Marsh. The Secret Service man
decided they would soon be friends, and quietly slipping his hand
into his pocket, began to detach a bill.
The woman snorted in protest. "Et make Nels see t'ings. No goodt for
him," she said, sharply. Then she rose and began clearing the table.
While her back was turned, Marsh quickly slipped a bill over to
Nels, winked hard at him, and nodded toward the door. Dull as the
man seemed, he apparently understood Marsh's suggestion. He winked
back and grinned, but as the woman returned to the table his face
instantly resumed its blank expression.
"Well," said Marsh, rising. "I must be going." He drew out some
bills and presented one to the woman. "I thank you for the lunch. It
was fine. You are a good cook."
When taking his leave, Marsh put special emphasis on his parting
with Nels. After closing the door behind him, however, he strolled
in a very leisurely way toward the gate, and instead of keeping on
along the road he leaned against the outside of one of the posts
where he was not visible from the cottage. He had not waited long
when footsteps sounded on the crushed stone of the driveway and Nels
appeared. Marsh beckoned to him and they walked down the roadway
until out of sight of the gate.
"Nels," said Marsh, stopping and facing the Swede, "you don't think
I ought to buy that house next door, eh?"
Nels shrugged his shoulders. "Dat bane your bes'ness," he said.
"But I don't want to buy a place that has a bad name. Will you tell
me what you think is the matter with it?"
Nels glanced about him, and standing a little closer to Marsh, said
in a lowered, voice, "Aye tenk bad men live dere."
"But," protested Marsh, "I thought the house was closed, and had
only a caretaker, or someone like that?"
"No caretaker," answered Nels. "Tree--four--five men. House look
close, but men inside." Then he added, shaking his head,
"Fonny-fonny."
"How do you know all this, Nels?"
"Aye watch. Aye see you yesterday, with yong lady."
Marsh smiled. This was evidently the man he had seen crouching in
the bushes, and who had caused him to hurry Miss Atwood away from
the house.
"Yes," said Marsh, "I was going to look over the house, but there
seemed to be nobody home."
"Men inside," answered Nels, giving Marsh a shock.
"Tell me all about it, Nels," said Marsh, patting the man on the
shoulder, "and I'll give you some more money."
"House close two year. Since den Aye see fonny men--most in night
time. Big, black car--no light. House stay close--all dark--fonny--so
Aye watch."
"Is that all?" inquired Marsh.
"Aye tell my wife--she say Aye drink too much hootch," grinned Nels.
"So Aye don't tell her about deh oder night."
"What night was that?"
"Aye tenk las' Monday night. Aye go see Ole. He have some new
stuff--goodt--goodt. Aye stay late--don't see well com'n' home. Aye tenk
Aye turn in my own gate and walk--walk--walk--but no home. Aye hear
auto com'n'--get out of de road. Et pass me--stop." Nels lowered his
voice to a whisper. "Aye bane nowhere near home--in front bad place.
Men turn on lights--CARRY DEAD MAN IN HOUSE!"
"How did you know he was dead?" exclaimed Marsh.
"He all loose--so," and Nels endeavored to illustrate by allowing
his body to droop limply.
"Then what?"
"Car put in gar-rage--all quiet. Aye get scared. Aye see clear
now--Aye run like hell!"
"That's all you know, is it, Nels?" asked Marsh.
"All now--but Aye watch."
"You're a good man, Nels--real smart," said Marsh. "Here's some more
money for you. Maybe I'll come to see you again."
"You bane fine man," grinned Nels, as he pocketed the additional
bill.
"Good-bye, Nels," said Marsh, "Better not tell anybody about our
talk. Your wife might hear about it."
Nels winked knowingly and they parted, Marsh going directly to the
station of the electric line and returning to Chicago.
As he approached his apartment, Marsh saw a heavily built man
lounging on the steps and chatting with the policeman on duty. Marsh
paid no attention to this man, merely nodding to the policeman as he
passed, and climbed the stairs to his apartment. But after he had
unlocked the door he stood in the hall instead of entering.
Presently the man came up the stairs and they entered the apartment
together. As soon as the door closed the man said, "I've got that
dope for you." He pulled out a long envelope and handed it to Marsh.
"Thanks," said Marsh as he took the envelope. "Things are shaping
themselves fine."
"Anything I can do?" asked the man.
"Nothing now," answered Marsh, "but you had better have several men
where we can reach them in a hurry. How is Oak Street?"
"No change," was the reply. "Hasn't left the house all day." With
that the man opened the door and left.
Marsh opened the envelope. It contained the black leather notebook,
a letter, and some typewritten sheets. He sat down and read the
letter.
The solution of the cipher code used in the notebook submitted,
was comparatively simple and we were able to work it
out here. This code was evidently not intended for the
transmission of secret messages; it was very probably used
exclusively to make notations in this book with the sole idea
of maintaining privacy for these memoranda.
Due to the simplicity of the code, it could be easily memorized
and therefore used for making hurried notes for quick
reference.
To the inexpert person the combination of letters and figures
gave a bewildering appearance to the notes, but it did not
actually make the cipher any more intricate.
You can readily make up your own key to this cipher by
writing out the letters of the alphabet from A to Z. Under
these letters you again write the letters of the alphabet,
placing the letter A under the letter Z and working backward.
By this arrangement, A would stand for Z and Z for A. Below
This you again write out the letters of the alphabet, and under
these, beginning at Z and working backward, write the numbers 1
to 10, which brings you to the letter Q. From P to J you write
the figures 20 to 26 and from I to A you write the figures 30
to 38. The person using this cipher probably memorized these
two arrangements. In writing a word of say six letters, he
would use four letters and two figures. To anyone glancing at
his notes in a casual way, the system looked intricate, but to
him these notes could be read almost as easily as if written in
plain English.
Attached to the letter were several pages containing the decoded
notations from the book. After carefully reading these, Marsh folded
the sheets and started to place them in his pocket. Then he paused,
glancing about the room thoughtfully. A moment later he smoothed the
sheets out flat and lifting up the corner of the rug, slipped them
under it well toward the center. Walking back and forth over the
spot several times, he seemed satisfied. Then he turned up one of
the chairs, placed the notebook inside of the bottom lining, and
putting on his hat and coat, went out.