VERBECK INVESTIGATES
Roger Verbeck and the chief looked at the sheriff aghast. His
announcement had startled them. In his previous career of crime, the
master criminal had raided that establishment, and had almost wrecked it
because he removed so many assets.
"How do you know that, Kowen?" the chief demanded.
The sheriff told the story, not sparing himself, for he wanted to
convince the men before him, and now that the recapture of the Black
Star seemed so near, he could afford to speak the truth.
He related the story of Mamie Blanchard's first visit to his office, and
of how he had trailed her after meeting her on the street.
"That woman," said Verbeck, after Kowen had described her carefully, "is
a member of the old organization, and is known as The Princess. She
caused us a lot of trouble before."
"She certainly did!" the chief admitted. "She is almost as clever as the
Black Star, is trusted by him, and handles a lot of his work. We didn't
get her when we caught the Black Star and smashed his old gang, and we
had supposed that she had left the country--possibly had gone to South
America. She came from Brazil, originally."
Then Kowen continued his story, and told of finding the papers on the
table in the basement.
"That's the part of it I don't like," Verbeck said. "It isn't like the
master crook to leave papers like those scattered around."
"Didn't you get into his old headquarters once and find papers and
orders there?" the sheriff demanded.
"I did, I'll admit. But really I do not like the appearance of this.
Describe that basement room to me again, Kowen."
The sheriff did so.
"Well, you seem to have described the room I saw last night," Roger
Verbeck said. "Perhaps you are right; but I think we are assuming too
much when we think the Black Star's people are not aware of the visit of
you and your men there. It would be more like him to have the place
watched continually."
"It all looks good to me," the chief put in. "I happen to know that the
National Trust Company has a lot of gold in its vault just now--and you
can bet that the Black Star knows it, too. That organization of his is a
wonder. Why, my own secretary might belong to it, for all I know. We
found a police captain in the old one, remember."
"Well, what are we going to do about it?" the sheriff asked.
"What have you to suggest? It's your game," the chief reminded him.
"I've got to have the help of the police, of course," Kowen replied. "I
haven't men enough, and this job calls for trained men. I think we
should combine forces."
"Certainly," the chief agreed.
"We ought to have a gang around the block that contains that cottage,
ready to nab anybody that goes in or comes out; and we ought to be
ready for the crook and his gang at the National Trust."
"How do you want to work it?" the chief asked. "Do you want to watch the
cottage with your men?"
"I'll send some of my men there, and you do the same," Kowen replied.
"And we'll both have men around the bank. I want to be there when the
big row comes off. Let's figure it out!"
"Mr. Verbeck is in command of this, as far as I am concerned," the chief
informed him.
"That suits me," the sheriff replied.
They spent an hour perfecting their plans, and then the chief began
issuing his orders. Those orders went to officers in all parts of the
city. They were of such a nature that the Black Star, if some
confederate reported them to him, would not be exactly sure what they
meant, except that the chief of police expected him to attempt some
gigantic crime and would have his men in readiness.
"If you see that Blanchard woman again, put her in the jug!" the chief
told the sheriff. "If you are afraid of a suit for damages, turn her
over to me. I'm not! She's The Princess, and there is a little charge
pending against her right now. Don't forget that."
"If I had arrested her to-day, I wouldn't have found the crook's
headquarters," Kowen retorted. "But I'll nab her if I see her again, all
right!"
The sheriff, well pleased with the arrangements that had been made, left
police headquarters and hurried to his own office, to give orders to his
own men. Kowen was exceedingly well pleased with himself. Even the chief
of police, his ancient enemy, admitted that he had done the work. Kowen
could see, in fancy, the newspapers of the following morning, with
their glowing accounts of how, within twenty-four hours after the Black
Star's escape, he had located the crook's headquarters, had learned his
plans, and had captured him again and broken up his band. That should be
political capital, Sheriff Kowen thought.
He reached his office, called his chief deputy, and gave him
instructions. He warned the man that orders should be issued carefully
so that the Black Star might not learn what was planned.
"We don't want to let that crook think we are wise to his game," Kowen
said. "If he does, he'll simply move his headquarters and call off this
little robbery. Then we'll have to start all over again--and I want to
get that man back in a cell before to-morrow. Newspapers and public jump
on me, will they? To-morrow they'll be saying how great I am!"
The chief of police had remained in his office to make further plans.
Roger Verbeck left, and went out to the roadster. He ordered Muggs to
drive to a certain corner across the city. That meant that Roger Verbeck
had some deep thinking to do, for, when he had not, he drove the big
roadster himself. So Muggs, with a thousand questions trembling on his
lips, kept silent, though he looked at Verbeck reproachfully now and
then.
Muggs reached the corner Verbeck had designated, and glanced around
scornfully. Muggs did not favor this section of the city. It reminded
him too much of certain quarters of Paris where he had existed in years
gone by, when he had been a criminal.
"Wait here," Verbeck said.
"Aw, boss, ain't I in on this?" Muggs protested.
"Want to have the car tagged for being left longer than the law allows
on this street?" Verbeck demanded. "If I am not back in twenty minutes,
drive around the block and wait on the opposite corner--and keep that up
until I do put in an appearance."
"This ain't a sweet end of town," Muggs said.
"Are you feeling a certain amount of alarm for me, Muggs? Have you an
idea that I cannot take care of myself, in broad daylight?"
"Aw!" Muggs exclaimed, in huge disgust.
"You'll get plenty of action, Muggs, before this thing is over, if that
is what is bothering you," Verbeck said. "What I am going to do just now
calls for one man, and only one."
Verbeck walked down the street, and Muggs hunched down behind the wheel
and glared at those who passed.
Verbeck turned the first corner and disappeared, as far as Muggs was
concerned. He journeyed another block, turned another corner, and so
approached the little cottage that Sheriff Kowen had investigated. He
walked past it slowly, and glanced at the building. There was no sign of
life about it.
Verbeck went on around the block and turned into the alley. He found the
little door in the wall, but there appeared to be no way of opening it
from the outside. He hurried on through the alley and made his way to
the front again. If this was, in reality, the Black Star's headquarters,
Verbeck did not want to spoil things by having some of the band see him
loitering in the neighborhood.
He returned to the roadster, told Muggs to drive him home, and grinned
at the look of disgust in Muggs' face.
"Ain't I in on this at all, boss?" Muggs wanted to know. "Gee! When we
was after that big crook before, you let me know everything. Don't you
trust me no more?"
"Certainly I trust you!" Verbeck told him. "You know that I do! But why
bother you with minor details? In other words, Muggs, I am not sure of
anything yet."
Reaching his rooms, Roger Verbeck spent the remainder of the day reading
books, as if the Black Star and his band did not exist and call for
thought. He ordered dinner earlier than usual, and then dressed in a
plain dark suit, and put on a soft cap.
"Into the roadster again, old boy," he told Muggs. "Drive me to the same
corner."
Muggs did so gladly; but when the corner was reached, he was disgusted
once more to find that Verbeck wanted him to remain with the car.
"I don't seem to be nothin' but a chauffeur," he complained to the world
at large. "I used to amount to somethin', but I guess I don't any more."
"Muggs, I told you that this is a one-man job," Verbeck said. "And I am
the one man!"
He walked on down the street, chuckling at Muggs' grumbling. He passed
the little cottage once more. There seemed to be no lights inside it.
The yard about it was in pitch darkness, for the glare of the street
lights was cut off by the high buildings on either side, by the
billboards in front and the alley wall behind.
Verbeck slipped inside the yard. For a time he stood against the
billboard and listened, and then he went forward like a shadow, and
finally reached a corner of the cottage.
He made his way around the building, listening at doors and windows. He
found a window unlatched, and raised it inch by inch, without making the
slightest noise. A moment later, Roger Verbeck was inside the house.
He held his electric torch ready, and his automatic. Not a sound reached
his ears to indicate the presence of any other human being in the house.
Verbeck flashed the torch, located a door, passed through it, and was in
the kitchen.
There he found the door leading to the basement, and listened beside it
for some time. Then he opened it, slowly, cautiously, a bit at a time.
There was no light in the basement.
Verbeck propped the door open with a chair, and descended the steps
carefully, not flashing his torch. He reached the bottom, listened for
some time, and then pressed the button. The shaft of light flashed
across the room.
"Kowen was right--this is the place!" Verbeck told himself. "The
furniture--everything seems to be the same. But I don't like it. It
doesn't seem right, at all. I never knew the Black Star to be careless
like this before."
Verbeck flashed his electric torch again and looked carefully around the
room. He even walked across to the table and read the orders Sheriff
Kowen had found there. The house was being watched by the police and
deputies by this time, Verbeck knew, for the men had received orders to
take up their positions soon after nightfall. The officers could be
depended upon to capture anybody who visited the cottage.
Verbeck went back up the steps, crept through the house, and got out
through the window by which he had entered, and which he now closed
again. As he moved away from the house, an officer spoke to him.
"I thought that was you, Mr. Verbeck," he said. "Have you been inside?"
"Yes. There is nobody there now," Verbeck replied. "Is the door in the
alley wall being watched?"
"Yes, sir," said the officer. "We've got good men scattered all around
the place. If that big crook or any of his people come near here,
they'll be nabbed!"
Verbeck hurried up the street and sprang into the roadster, smiling at
Muggs' sour look.
"Drive to police headquarters, Muggs," he directed. "We'll stay there
until a little before midnight, and then we'll go to the National Trust
Company with the chief and his men, and watch for the Black Star. If he
really attempts to rob that place to-night, he is going to be caught in
the act."
"I'd like to get my two hands on him!" Muggs growled.
"Perhaps you'll have the chance," Verbeck said.
"If I do," Muggs said, "you can bet that the big crook will have a sore
throat for a month!"