THE STRONG BOX
After a luncheon, to which I did full justice, McKelvie flipped over the
pages of the city directory and studied the section devoted to
Cunninghams.
"That's rather peculiar," he said. "He has no office in the city. If he
is a lawyer, where does he conduct his practice? Something wrong,
somewhere. Come on. We'll get him at his apartments."
We drove to 84th Street and inquired for Cunningham.
"Mr. Cunningham? He's not at home," replied the switchboard operator in
the hallway of the fashionable apartment house.
"Do you mean that he is out of town?" asked McKelvie anxiously.
"Oh, no. He'll be back at five, I guess. That's the time he usually
comes in when he's in the city," said the girl, bestowing a fetching
smile upon my companion.
McKelvie improved the acquaintance. He returned the smile. "Is he away
very much?"
"Yes, quite a bit."
"Thank you, and you need not mention that I was asking about him. He
might not like it," remarked McKelvie.
"You said it. He's closer than a clam about himself," she returned with
a little toss of her head.
"Our friend Cunningham was once quite attentive in that quarter,"
explained McKelvie with a laugh as we drove away. "So much I learned
when I first came here, and so I proceeded to make friends with Jane."
"Where to?" I inquired, laughing. "Home?"
"No, the Darwin Bank. I have a mind to see whether our lawyer friend,
who has no office, possesses a sufficient capital to live on his income.
Mr. Trenton is the best man to apply to I guess, since I have already
learned that Cunningham keeps an account at his bank."
When we arrived at the bank I sent my card in, and we were admitted at
once to Mr. Trenton's private office.
"What is it, Carlton?" he asked fearfully.
"Good news," I replied, "which I should like you to convey to Ruth" (I
had ceased visiting her at her own request), and I told him Gilmore's
story.
Mr. Trenton beamed on McKelvie when I had finished the tale. "My dear
sir, this is all your doing. How can I ever thank you? You have lifted a
great load from my mind, and I can think of him with great pity now
instead of horror in my heart."
He bowed his head and I was glad he did not know that Dick was alive. It
was far better that he think his son drowned than that he know that Dick
was somewhere in New York, afraid to come home.
"Mr. Trenton," said McKelvie presently, "I came here primarily to obtain
some information. Philip Darwin had an account here, did he not?"
"Raines can tell you," Mr. Trenton replied, ringing for the head
cashier.
I nodded to the young man as he entered, for we were acquainted and Mr.
Trenton introduced him to McKelvie, adding, "And Mr. Raines, you have
my authority to tell Mr. McKelvie whatever he desires to know."
"I'm at your service, Mr. McKelvie," responded Raines, with a cordial
smile.
"I wish to know whether Philip Darwin has a bank balance here and if so
how much," said McKelvie, getting down to business at once.
"He closed out his account on the sixth of October," replied Raines.
"I'm not likely to forget it, since it was the very next night that he
was murdered."
"And the amount of his balance was--" repeated McKelvie.
"One hundred and fifty thousand dollars. I gave him the money myself."
"Did he take it in gold or notes?" asked McKelvie.
"In bills of large denominations, so that it did not make such a very
large package to carry. He put it into a small bag and took it away
himself."
McKelvie took a turn around the room and then asked abruptly, "Does a
Mr. Herbert Cunningham, who lives on 84th Street, bank here?"
"Yes. He's a red-whiskered chap, is he not?"
McKelvie nodded. "Can you give me the amount of his balance?"
"I'll get it for you in just a moment." Raines left the room and
McKelvie continued to pace the floor.
"What do you suppose Philip did with all that money?" asked Mr. Trenton.
"That's what I'm going to find out," returned McKelvie. "I have an idea
I know where it is."
"According to Cunningham, Darwin lost it on Wall Street," I said.
"Yes, and according to Orton Darwin was a cautious speculator. I'll
wager the secretary was the better judge of Darwin's character. Orton's
shrewd for all that he's a wretched creature. No, that money did not go
into Wall Street, and I'm going to locate it in just a moment. Well?" as
Raines came in again.
"Cunningham's balance is ten thousand dollars," returned Raines.
"Any increase lately?" asked McKelvie.
"No, just a steady decrease," answered the cashier.
"Has he a strong box?"
"Yes, he has."
"May I examine its contents?" inquired McKelvie.
Raines looked at Mr. Trenton.
"It's all right. I'll come along, too," and Mr. Trenton rose.
"By the way, Mr. Raines," said McKelvie, "I should like this
investigation conducted as inconspicuously as possible. I'm a rich
eccentric who wants to hire a strong box, if anyone asks any questions."
"All right, sir. Whatever Mr. Trenton says goes. I'll meet you
downstairs with the key," replied Raines.
Mr. Trenton conducted us through the bank corridor to the rear of the
building and down a flight of stone steps to the entrance to the vault.
The guard swung open the heavy door with a "good-afternoon, sir," to Mr.
Trenton, and we entered the fireproof room where the safe deposit boxes
were kept and paused before the one marked Cunningham.
When Raines came in he inserted the master key in the lock and opened
the deposit box. Inside was a smaller tin cash box and when he lifted
the lid, for it was unlocked, we saw that it was crammed with bills.
Raines' eyes opened wide with amazement, and if McKelvie hadn't caught
the box it would have fallen from his nerveless fingers.
"Mr. McKelvie," he said in a strange voice, pointing to the contents of
the box, "those are the bills I gave to Philip Darwin!"
"I thought as much," said McKelvie seriously. "Lock up this box again.
Until we can prove that Cunningham has no right to the money, we cannot
confiscate it. Thank you very much, Mr. Trenton, for your kindness in
allowing me this privilege, and I'd be much obliged if you will say
nothing to anyone about our discovery. You'll excuse us if we hurry
along?"
Mr. Trenton nodded and we hastened out, leaving the president and the
cashier to lock up the one hundred and fifty thousand dollars in
Cunningham's strong box.
"So Cunningham has the money," I remarked as we drove toward Stuyvesant
Square. "Can it be he murdered Darwin, and then helped himself to the
bills. The cash box in the safe was found empty," I added.
McKelvie smiled grimly. "Oh, no, he didn't steal the money. I don't
believe it was ever in the house on Riverside Drive, but we will make
our friend explain its presence in his strong box just the same. It
should be an interesting account, to say the least," he ended
sarcastically. "Call for me here at five and we'll hear what he has to
say."
I pondered McKelvie's meaning as I returned to the office. The
explanation should be interesting he had said. I agreed with him, yet
after all it could have no direct connection with the murder, since
Philip Darwin had never taken the money home. But how did McKelvie know
this latter fact? Was he merely theorizing, or did he know more than he
had told me? He had not appeared surprised when we discovered that the
lawyer had the money, for he had even hinted that he knew where it was.
I determined to ask him what other information he had upon this point
when I called for him at five o'clock, but at four-thirty, as I was
making ready to leave, he phoned me to postpone our visit. His voice was
so high-pitched with excitement that my questions vanished from my mind
as if by magic, and all I could exclaim was, "What is it? What has
happened?"
"Our friend Cunningham will have a pretty job on his hands explaining
away all the facts I have gathered against him to-day," he exulted.
"He's no more a lawyer than I am, Mr. Davies!"
"Not a lawyer!" I repeated.
"No. He's not registered, and he cannot practise law in New York City!
I'm going to look up one or two more details before we call upon him. Be
at the house at quarter to eight, please, providing, of course, that you
desire to accompany me."
"McKelvie, if you dare to go to 84th Street without me, there's going to
be trouble between us," I warned and he laughed gayly as he rang off.