The Raid
At exactly ten minutes to eleven on the following night, eight police
cars rolled swiftly down the boulevard. In a congested portion of the
city they drew up to the curbing, waiting for Christopher Nichols who
rode with his daughter in a dark sedan.
Jerome Davis, in charge of the raid, came over to speak to the
detective.
"Everything is all set, Mr. Nichols. We have the entire neighborhood
bottled up. Every alley and street guarded."
"Good. And the Hamilton building?"
"It is surrounded. At exactly eleven my men will raid both places.
It's a cinch we'll get Rap Molberg and his gang this time."
"You're certain no hint of the raid has leaked out?"
Jerome Davis laughed confidently.
"Even now my men aren't sure what's coming off. This raid can't fail,
Mr. Nichols. We had a straight tip where Molberg could be found and
we'll get him!"
"Then go ahead exactly as we planned," Mr. Nichols directed. "On to
the Blind Pig Cafe!"
Jerome Davis returned to the waiting cars, relaying the detective's
orders. In single file the police automobiles moved forward. They
rounded a corner and bore down upon a brightly illuminated restaurant.
With a start Penny recognized it as the same place where she had met
Betty Davis the previous evening.
"What a coincidence!" she thought. "How embarrassing it would be for
Mr. Davis if his son should be found in there tonight!"
The appearance of the first officer in the doorway of the Blind Pig was
sufficient to give warning that a raid was under way. The few persons
who were dining inside made wild dashes for the doors and windows.
They were quickly captured by officers stationed at all the exits.
Although the room lights had been snapped out, no shots were fired.
"Something is wrong!" Mr. Nichols exclaimed, abruptly leaving the sedan
from which he had been watching. "It looks to me like a tip-off."
A few minutes after her father had disappeared into the cafe, Penny saw
the policemen load perhaps six or seven prisoners into the waiting
cars. But it was apparent even to her that the raid had failed. The
persons arrested obviously were not members of the Molberg gang.
Mr. Nichol's face was dark when he came back to the sedan. Without a
word he started the engine and drove rapidly off.
"What happened?" Penny asked timidly.
"Oh, the usual," the detective snapped. "It was a tip-off. Only a few
persons were in the cafe and the clubrooms to the rear were completely
deserted. Not a scrap of evidence. We'll have to release all the
prisoners."
"Where are we going now, Dad?"
"To the Hamilton Plant. There's just a chance that the raid there was
more successful, though I doubt it."
"Who could have carried the information?" Penny inquired.
"I don't know. That's what bothers me. Penny, you're certain you
never dropped a word of this?"
"Why, of course not!"
"I don't mean intentionally, of course. You're sure you never
mentioned the raid to your friend Susan?"
"Absolutely not," Penny maintained indignantly. "For that matter, I
didn't know the Blind Pig was the place you were raiding."
"That's true," Mr. Nichols acknowledged. "I didn't mean to offend you,
Penny. I was only seeking information. I can't see how the news
leaked out unless--"
"Unless what?" Penny probed.
"I'll not say it."
"You meant, unless Jerome Davis had betrayed his trust!"
"Well, yes, that was what I was thinking. This is the first occasion
I've had to question his honesty. It may be I haven't given enough
consideration to the stories which have circulated regarding Davis."
"You said you believed they were started by his political enemies."
"Yes, and I'm still inclined to think that, although the failure of
this raid looks peculiar to say the least. I'll have to be more
careful in my dealings with Davis."
"If the Molberg outfit didn't regard him as an enemy then why would
they throw a warning note through the window?" Penny demanded.
"That could have been faked--it might have been a dodge to impress you."
"I don't see how it could have been, Dad. You see, I met Betty Davis
quite by accident that evening. On the spur of the moment I accepted
her invitation to stop a few minutes at the house. It was while I was
there that the message was thrown through the window. It couldn't have
been planned."
"Not very well," Mr. Nichols admitted. "Davis may be honest enough,
but if I find he's a loose talker, his usefulness for me will be ended."
The sedan had reached the dead-end street which led to the vacant
Hamilton Plant. An officer stepped out of the shadow to challenge Mr.
Nichols, but recognizing him, saluted instead.
"What luck?" the detective asked.
"I can't tell you, sir. I've heard nothing since I was stationed here."
Penny and her father drove on between the rows of police cars which
lined the narrow street. As they halted at the far end of the
thoroughfare, an officer came to speak with them.
"Did you get into the building?" Mr. Nichols inquired tersely.
"Yes, your daughter's instructions were very clear. We had no trouble."
"What did you find?"
"Everything was exactly as Miss Nichols said. The place has been used
by the Molberg outfit, that's clear. But there wasn't a sign of
anyone, and the desk which Miss Nichols mentioned as being in the
little office, was gone."
"Looks like they got wind of what was up, doesn't it?"
"That's the way I figure it," the officer returned. "Not much we can
do except wreck the place so it can't be used again."
Mr. Nichols talked with several other policemen, and then, satisfied
that he had learned all the details of the unsuccessful raid, took
Penny home.
"I suppose this means we'll not be taking that vacation into the
mountains very soon," she commented when they were alone in the living
room.
"I'm afraid of it, Penny. Would you care to go by yourself?"
"No, I'd prefer to wait until you can go too. Besides, I've become
deeply absorbed in this Molberg case."
"I've noticed that," her father smiled. "I never suspected that my own
daughter had such hidden talents for sleuthing."
"Now you're teasing!" Penny accused.
"No, your discoveries have astonished me, Penny. Perhaps you were
favored a little by luck, but you've unearthed information which even
my most skilled investigators were unable to turn up."
"My clues didn't prove of much value after all."
"It wasn't your fault that they didn't. A detective must learn to
expect disappointments."
"So it seems," Penny sighed. "Now that Rap Molberg escaped the police
net, what will be your next move?"
"I don't know yet, Penny."
"Perhaps Rap Molberg will leave the city."
"I don't think there's much chance of that. He'll remain in hiding for
a few days or weeks, then strike again. You must have a constant
bodyguard, Penny."
"Oh, Dad! If you knew how I hated it! I couldn't feel that even my
thoughts were my own!"
"Sorry, Penny, but it's for your own safety."
"Oh, all right, I submit," Penny grumbled good-naturedly. "Only if I
must have someone tagging at my heels all the time, please make him
tall and handsome!"
"I don't usually select my men for their beauty," Mr. Nichols smiled.
"But I'll do the best I can for you."
Although Penny disliked the idea of being closely watched, actually a
bodyguard was not as annoying as she had imagined it might be. Joe
Franey, the detective assigned by Mr. Nichols to the service, was young
and, while not handsome, distinguished in appearance. His bearing gave
no hint of his professional calling. Penny found Joe very likeable.
He never irritated her by making her aware of his presence--in fact,
for hours at a time she never saw him at all--yet when she was on the
street she was seldom out of his sight.
For the next few days, following Joe's assignment to his new duties,
Penny and Susan slyly amused themselves by trying to see if they could
outwit him. They led the detective a gay chase from one end of the
city to another. They dropped into department stores, dodging in one
door and out another, but when they were confident they had baffled
Joe, they were very apt to see him watching them from a doorway across
the street.
Or if they entered a theatre apparently unobserved by the faithful
sleuth they were almost certain to see him only a few seats behind.
But soon Joe became such a fixture in Penny's life that she accepted
him without much thought.
True to Mr. Nichols' prediction, all remained quiet on the Rap Molberg
front save that the unsuccessful raid had stirred up an aftermath of
bitter criticism. The local newspapers provided considerable
unfavorable publicity; editors ran scorching editorials blaming Mr.
Nichols and the police for the failure to break up the Molberg gang.
Infuriated by the comments of the press, the police commissioner called
both the detective and Jerome Davis to his office. Neither could
explain the failure of the raid. It was obvious that someone had
allowed information to leak and since only Mr. Nichols and a few
policemen had known the details of the raid, suspicion tended to center
upon Jerome Davis.
"It's only a matter of days until he'll be discharged from the force,"
Mr. Nichols told his daughter.
"Surely you don't think he'd be guilty of helping Rap Molberg?" Penny
questioned.
"I don't know what to believe. Davis was called on the carpet
yesterday and given an opportunity to explain a number of things. He
wouldn't talk."
"But that doesn't prove necessarily that he's guilty, does it?"
"No, but he's acted strangely of late. The fact remains that someone
let information leak either by accident or deliberately. Davis was in
a bad spot before this. Now I'm afraid nothing can save his job."
"I feel so sorry for Betty," Penny murmured. "She'll take it hard if
her father is discharged."
"You mustn't worry about it," Mr. Nichols advised kindly. "Davis had
his chance to make good and seemingly failed. Now matters must take
their own course."
"Couldn't you do anything to save his position, Dad?"
"I doubt it, Penny. At any rate, I shouldn't care to interfere ... for
I'm not convinced that the commissioner isn't right. Davis is a queer
type."
"Just the same I can't help feeling he's honest," Penny maintained
firmly. "Couldn't there have been another reason for the failure of
the raid?"
"Yes, but Davis was under suspicion before this. And since the raid
he's been anything but cooperative."
"Then I suppose nothing can be done, but it seems a pity."
Penny did not speak of the matter again to her father but in secret she
continued to mull over the unfortunate situation. She had developed a
deep liking for Betty Davis, yet she readily acknowledged that in many
ways the girl acted queerly.
"It's too much for me to figure out," Penny confessed to Susan one
afternoon. "Everything seems to be such a hopeless contradiction.
Betty lets on that she is desperately afraid her father will be harmed
by Rap Molberg and yet the police claim that Mr. Davis is really
abetting the criminals."
"Have you ever met her brother?"
"Jimmie?" Penny asked. "No, but from what she told me I suspect he's
something of a problem."
"I haven't seen Betty in days," Susan remarked. "Why not call on her
this afternoon?"
Penny hesitated an instant, then agreed. Considering her father's
association with Mr. Davis she was not certain that the visit would be
very tactful.
"We must be careful and not say anything that could offend her," she
warned.
"Of course," Susan agreed. "Shall we drive over in my car?"
At the Davis cottage a few minutes later, they caught a glimpse of
someone moving about on the upper floor. But when they rapped upon the
door there was no response.
"I know I saw Betty looking out of an upstairs window just as we drove
up," Susan whispered.
"Perhaps she doesn't care to see us then. Come on, Sue, let's not
knock again."
They quietly withdrew to the car.
"Where to now?" Susan inquired as she snapped on the ignition.
"Oh, anywhere. I've nothing special to do this afternoon."
Susan stepped on the electric starter, but the engine refused to
respond. She readjusted gasoline and spark levers to no avail.
"Stalled again!" she complained bitterly. "I never saw such a car!
We've had nothing but trouble since we bought it."
"Perhaps it's only flooded," Penny suggested hopefully.
Susan shook her head.
"It's done this before. Nothing to do but call the garage. Anyway,
Mr. Brunner promised he'd give the car a free overhaul, and this is his
chance to make good."
The girls telephoned the Brunner garage from a drug store located
directly across the street. They waited nearly half an hour before the
blue service car arrived to tow them in.
"May I speak to Mr. Brunner?" Susan politely asked one of the garage
employees.
"Sorry but he's busy," was the curt reply. "I'll handle any complaint
you have to make."
Susan gave a somewhat lengthy account of her car troubles. The
employee scarcely bothered to listen. When she had finished, he said
briefly.
"I'll check the car over and have it ready in half an hour."
"Let's wait," Susan proposed.
They found chairs nearby. In fifteen minutes, the same employee
returned to report that the car was ready.
"So soon?" Susan said in surprise. "Why, I'm sure you couldn't have
checked over everything in such a short while."
"The car will start now. If you want a general overhaul you'll have to
pay for it."
"But Mr. Brunner promised me when I bought the automobile that if
anything went wrong he'd make it right!" Susan protested indignantly.
"I've driven the car less than five hundred miles and it's almost
falling apart! May I see Mr. Brunner?"
"He's in his office," the man informed reluctantly.
"And where is that?"
"Down the hall. The second door from the end."
Crossing through the deserted repair shop, the girls made their way
down the dark hallway. The door which the employee had indicated stood
slightly ajar.
As Penny and Susan drew near they heard angry voices.
"You can threaten me all you like, but I tell you I'm through! I'll
never do any more work for you, Brunner!"
"You'll do exactly as I say or--" The manager abruptly broke off for
he had noticed the two girls standing at the open door. "Come in, come
in!" he beamed.
Penny's keen glance traveled beyond George Brunner to the person whom
he had addressed in such an abusive tone.
It was Jerry Barrows.