ONE WORD
It was a very pale and agitated Etta who awaited McCarty's coming at
the hour designated that night. Her buxom figure drooped and her face
in the flaring light of the street lamp looked swollen and distorted as
from much weeping.
"Good-evening, my dear," McCarty saluted her with marked gallantry. "I
got your note and it's proud I am that you sent for me in your trouble,
whatever it is. Would you come for a little walk, maybe?"
He had noted that she wore her hat and cloak and at his words she
nodded and slipping out of the area door, closed it noiselessly behind
her.
"Yes. We can't talk here, and the house gives me the creeps, anyway.
It was good of you to come, Mr. McCarty, but I dunno as I did right to
send for you. He'd half kill me if he knew I was giving him away, even
though you've nothing to do with the police now. Still we've got to
know what to do or I'll go crazy with the worry of it!"
"If it's a police matter I can put you right on it in no time. There's
no trick of the trade I'm not on to," McCarty replied promptly. "Is it
a friend of yours that's in trouble?"
"It's my brother, Dick." The words came low and half unwillingly
from her lips and McCarty with difficulty repressed a whistle of
astonishment.
Her brother! Norwood's description of the young man returned to his
mind: "lazy, impudent, drank up everything he could lay his hand on----"
"I've heard of him," he said slowly. "Mr. Jarvis employed him as second
man at one time, didn't he?"
"Yes, and you've heard no good of him, I'll be bound!" Etta retorted
fiercely. "Dick never had a fair show! He's not really bad; not any
worse than a lot of other young men, but he's had hard luck and he
can't keep a steady job and it gets him crazy to think of the soft
snap the rich have of it, while he and the likes of us have to slave
and take their abuse just for enough to eat and something to put on
our backs! Dick tried to go straight, but something always seemed to
go wrong. When he worked for the Jarvises old Henry, the butler, was
jealous of him and forever complaining to the master. Of course, Dick
wasn't going to stand having all the old man's work put off on his
shoulders and take his jawing too, besides! Then Henry told Mr. Jarvis
that Dick was drinking up his whisky, which was a lie, but Mr. Jarvis
wouldn't listen and discharged him."
"And now he's in trouble?" McCarty suggested to stem the flow of
reminiscence.
"Yes, through no fault of his own. He got in with a gang over on the
East Side; not gunmen, but tough, young fellows that--that put notions
in his head and showed him easy ways of getting money." She hesitated.
"I've begged him on my knees to cut loose from them, but what was the
use? There was no one to give him a job or a good word. I went to Mrs.
Jarvis to see if she could get her husband to give him another trial,
but she wouldn't do anything for me; that Margot had her wrapped around
her little finger and she had no more use for me than she had for my
brother, though my aunt was cook in the Jarvis family before Mr. Oliver
ever knew she was alive!"
The vindictive resentment in the girl's tone was a revelation, but
McCarty commented soothingly:
"'Twas hard lines on the young fellow. But what's happened to him?"
"The other night a watchman at some foundry was beaten up and a lot
of brass work, fixtures and such, was stolen." Etta dropped her voice
and glanced half-fearfully over her shoulder as she spoke. "The police
traced them to a place downtown, a fence who made a business of buying
up such stuff and asking no questions. He talked quick enough to the
police, though, and said it was the gang Dick belongs to that turned
the trick. I dunno whether it was or not, but Dick wasn't in on it,
that I can swear! However, the watchman woke up in the hospital and
identified two of the crowd as them that had set on him, describing
another that sounded enough like Dick to be his brother. The fellows
wouldn't squeal and tell who'd been with them and so the police went
scouting around and last night they--they found Dick and arrested him!"
"Well," observed McCarty after a pause. "My advice to him would be to
get a good lawyer that stands in, maybe, with the Prosecutor, and a
couple of witnesses that don't come too high. You can get them to swear
to anything for from five up."
"You wouldn't be doing much, would you, and Dick with no money nor
nothing!" Etta jeered sarcastically. "Besides, he had nothing to do
with it. He wasn't with them that night and didn't even know what was
coming off!"
McCarty glanced shrewdly at her.
"Then why don't he tell the police where he was?"
"He--he can't. That's the trouble, and I dunno what to do. I know where
he was, all right, but if I was to tell, it would get him in worse
trouble, and me, too."
At her words a sudden light flashed across McCarty's brain and he
demanded:
"When was it that the foundry was broke into? Last Friday night?"
The girl made no reply, but he could feel her tremble violently as she
withdrew her arm from his.
"You might just as well tell me, my dear, for I can find out from
Headquarters, and remember, I'm your friend. I told you'd I'd stand by
you. 'Twas last Friday night, wasn't it?"
"Y-yes!" Etta began to sob wildly. "I'll not tell you any more, so
don't ask it of me! I never meant to let out that much, but you dragged
it from me!"
"You don't have to tell me," McCarty retorted. "'Twas your brother who
ransacked Mrs. Jarvis' dressing-room and you that let him in to do it,
wasn't it? You'd put up a job between you----"
"We had not!" The girl turned upon him with flashing eyes. "Dick was
sick! Cigarettes and drink and the tough life here in the city was
getting him and he wanted a chance to go West and start all over again,
but where was the money coming from? He's all I've got, and I didn't
mean to see him die here or maybe go up for turning some cheap trick
like pinching a few bits of brass! He'd as much right to a fresh start
as anyone and if the Jarvises had been the open-handed kind he would
have gone to them. They'd never missed the few dollars, and 'twould
have been only decent, him being the cook's nephew, and all. But we
knew he didn't stand a chance of getting a cent from them, and here
they were going off to Europe this week and turning me out with a
reference, maybe, but nothing to show for the year and more I've slaved
for them! Margot was going with them, Margot was the pet, but I was no
more than the dirt under their feet! My aunt was to get a pension, but
they've turned her against Dick, too, and she'd have nothing to do
with him.
"Dick and me, we talked it all over and I was near wild, for his health
had been breaking fast lately. A few of the trumpery pins and things
that Mrs. Jarvis used to leave around so careless on her dresser would
have paid his way to the coast and set him up in the billiard parlor
he's been wanting to run, but I wouldn't hear of it first off when he
spoke. I told him to come back the next night and we'd think up some
other way, but in the meantime that sneaking Margot went to Mrs. Jarvis
with some tale about me breaking a homely old vase in the drawing-room
and I got scolded right in front of her. That settled it for me, and I
thought that if I could get her in trouble it would only be paying her
back!"
"I see," McCarty nodded. "You thought if anything was missed she'd be
accused of taking it. You didn't know your brother was going to pull
the dressing-room to pieces, nor yet did you figure on the murder----"
"Oh-h!" Etta gave a little scream and clutched convulsively at his
arm. "Mr. McCarty, as God is my judge we had nothing to do with that!
I never liked Mrs. Jarvis for the way she put Margot before me, but
I'd not have harmed a hair of her head, nor Dick either! He's that
tender-hearted he wouldn't hurt a cat, for all his rough ways, and Mrs.
Jarvis was gone before ever I let him into the house. I can swear to
that for I stayed by him every minute he was there, keeping watch that
Margot didn't hear anything and come snooping around. Except for her
down in the front basement the house was empty."
"And what time was it when you let your brother in?" McCarty asked.
"You'd better tell me the whole thing, Etta, till I see if I can't fix
a way out of it for you. Aiding and abetting a burglary is a serious
matter, but I've influence at Headquarters yet and you don't want to
keep silent and have your brother sent up for something he didn't do.
That toothache business was a bluff, wasn't it?"
"Partly, but I was sick, anyway, with the thought of what I'd agreed
to. I must have been crazy, looking back on it, but I'd been getting
more and more sore about Margot and the way I was going to be turned
off. I knew there'd be no one home Friday night but the two of us, and
when she brought up my supper I told her I was going to sleep so as to
get rid of her. Dick came at nine, and I was waiting for him up at the
front door. I let him in quiet and then all at once a different feeling
came over me and I begged him to give it up and go away; I saw 'twas
wrong, what we had planned.
"But Dick had been drinking to nerve himself up and he wouldn't quit
like that. He was bound to go through with it, and upstairs he went
with me after him. I took him through Mrs. Jarvis' rooms to the
dressing-room and then I went back to the door leading into the hall
to watch and listen for Margot. Mrs. Jarvis wasn't there, anywhere.
Whatever had happened to her, she'd been gone long before."
"And Margot didn't hear the racket when your brother began upsetting
things?"
"No. My heart was in my mouth, but 'tis an old house and the floors
are thick. When I heard the bang of a chair going over I ran back and
stopped him. He was mad with rage at not finding anything except the
gold stuff on the dresser, and he didn't dare take that, not knowing
how to get rid of it without letting the gang in on it. 'Twas all I
could do to calm him down and make him go quietly, but I got him out at
last, and I never was so thankful for anything in my life! I was glad
even that he'd got nothing, and we'd no theft on our souls! I hadn't
the nerve to go back into that room and straighten it up for fear
Margot would catch me at it and see the safe open, that I didn't know
how to close. I didn't care, either, for with Dick gone and me supposed
to be sick upstairs they'd never put the blame of it on me, and they
could think what they liked."
"Do you know what time it was when your brother left the house?"
"I flew straight back to my room and the clock pointed to half-past
nine." Etta responded, adding anxiously: "Oh, Mr. McCarty, whatever
shall we do?"
"There's only one thing for you to do, and that is to go to Inspector
Druet yourself and tell him the truth." McCarty smiled oddly to himself
in the darkness. "Tell him I sent you and he'll do what he can to get
you both off."
"Him!" the girl exclaimed scornfully. "After the way he roared at me
the other day? I think I see myself! He'd be the first to clap me in
jail and goodness knows but he'd charge us both with the murder!"
"You've got him wrong," McCarty urged earnestly. "He was only trying to
get at the truth, that you were holding out on him, and if you'd told
him then, your brother would not be facing the charge he is now. He'll
go up, as sure as you're alive, if you don't speak, and you needn't
fear being accused of the murder, for Mrs. Jarvis had been dead three
hours and more when you let your brother into the house. He didn't
break in, nor did he take anything, so there's no question of robbery,
after all, and even if the Inspector should be a bit hard on him I know
one that'll put in a good word, and that's Mr. Jarvis himself."
"Why should he?" Etta demanded. "He was mean enough to him before. If I
do tell, Mr. McCarty, and they don't let my brother go----"
"They will. Tell the Inspector I said for you to go straight to him and
that he would fix it to get you both out of the scrape."
Etta wavered, but McCarty called all his powers of persuasion into
play, and when he left her at the basement door of the Jarvis house a
half hour later he had wrung from her a reluctant promise to go with
her confession to Inspector Druet on the following day.
"Twice I've scored on him!" he chuckled to himself as he turned up his
collar once more and started across town. "And neither time did I have
to lift my little finger! The news came to me; first young Jarvis'
alibi and now the matter of the dressing-room. The Inspector has the
department behind him and Terhune has his science, but I've my luck,
praise God, and it's going strong!"
An hour later, as engine 023 honked its way wearily into the firehouse
after a futile dash to a false alarm, Dennis swung himself down from
his appointed place to find McCarty confronting him, suitcase in hand
and the fight of purpose in his eyes.
"You're off on a trip, the night?" Dennis regarded him wistfully.
"My eyes have been bothering me again from smoke and only to-day the
Lieutenant said he could fix it for me to lay off for a week and rest
up. If you'd given me the word, Mac, I could have been with you."
"'Tis hardly worth while," McCarty rejoined. "I'm off to Atlantic
City on the midnight train and if I get what I'm after I'll be back
to-morrow night or the next day. Save up your eyes, Denny, till next
week for I'm thinking we've a longer trip ahead of us then. I just
stopped in to tell you that I'm on my way to see Kate Stricker."
"The woman that sold the wallet to Norwood!" Dennis stared. "You've
located her then? Good for you!"
McCarty nodded.
"And shot the Inspector's grand little theory full of holes," he
supplemented complacently. "Wait till you hear what happened since I
left you this morning!"
He recounted the events of the day and Dennis listened in absorbed
interest, thrilling in sympathetic indignation at Inspector Druet's
attitude and jubilant over the thought of that official's coming
surprise.
"You've put it over on him, though 'twas none of your doing!" he
declared when the story was finished. "You had the right hunch about
Etta, too. I hope it's still working now that those little matters are
cleared up and you're out for the real dope!"
"None of my doing," McCarty repeated musingly. "That's what Mrs. Jarvis
said."
"What's that?" Dennis asked, startled.
"It's what she said when Miss Norwood was sitting by her that time last
spring that I just told you about, when she started up from her bed.
'It was none of my doing,' and 'why must the shadow of it follow me?'
If I can get the truth from that woman to-morrow----"
"Taking into consideration the amount of brains he's provided with,
I don't wonder that English fellow would have believed that whole
blackmailing stunt to be some sort of a practical joke," Dennis
interrupted, intent upon his own train of thought. "That cake, now.
Margot said that when it came the bare sight of it all but made Mrs.
Jarvis faint. Yet what was there in the gift of it that should have
warned her of what was coming? 'Twas the same as other big fancy cakes,
wasn't it, except for that foreign word on it, that you say means
'Christmas'?--What's got you, Mac?"
For it was McCarty's turn to stare, with dropped jaw and eyes into
which a sudden light had gleamed.
"By all the saints, you've struck it!" he ejaculated. "You've hit the
nail on the head, Denny! 'Twas not the cake at all but the one word
on it that told Mrs. Jarvis the past wasn't buried as deep as she'd
thought! Noel! It means Christmas, all right, but what else would it
stand for, to her?"
"Ask me another!" invited Dennis. "If the blackmailing blackguard
wanted to remind her of something by the one word, why did he go to all
the trouble of fixing up the cake? Why didn't he write it to her, or
maybe spell it out in those macaroni letters?"
"'Twas the art of him, Denny! The damned cleverness of him! To anyone
else 'twould look just like a fine Christmas cake, the way it did to
all of us until this minute, but to her it meant that someone had raked
up what she was trying to forget. 'Twas the only way he could get
that word to her without anyone else being the wiser. Terhune had him
right; 'tis no ordinary strangling thug we're up against but a shrewd,
crafty devil that planned every move ahead and knew just how to play on
her fears. She must have been as helpless in his hands as a bird in a
snare, poor thing!"
"He did not plan the last move far ahead, that's a safe bet," Dennis
remarked. "If 'twas him found her there in the museum he acted quick
enough then on the spur of the moment, without giving her time to
scream once!"
"And 'tis because of that we'll get him, Denny," predicted McCarty.
"There was never a clever crook yet that didn't over-reach himself
sooner or later, and this is the one time he didn't look ahead; that
is, if 'twas him. That's one thing I can't get through my head yet; why
the blackmailer should have spoiled his own game by killing the source
of the income. There's just one answer that would fit it, but you'd
think me stark crazy if I was to spring it now."
"I'm not Inspector Druet," Dennis reminded him reproachfully. "I took
your word for it last year, didn't I, when I let you dump me in the
middle of an Illinois wheat field, looking for a girl that had lain in
another one's grave for two weeks? If you're going to hold out on me
now----"
"'Twas only a notion, and 'twill keep till I get hold of that
ex-stewardess and learn what was in those letters," McCarty demurred.
"They must have been written to Leonidas Hoyos himself if that old
wallet was his. But there's one thing sure, Denny; the cake was a
reminder of that case that had meant trouble for her or hers, no less.
'Twas the Hoyos murder that she was paying to keep dark and the secret
of it cost her her own life!"