Incriminating Evidence
Penny found her father occupied at his desk in the study. Recounting
her experience at the Big Dipper, she offered him the license number
which she had copied.
"I don't suppose it will be of any use to you since I failed to get the
entire number."
"I may be able to trace the car though I rather doubt it," Mr. Nichols
told her. "At any rate, from what you've seen tonight I feel confident
that Rap Molberg is shipping another truck load of stolen wheels out of
town. I'll tip off the police to be on the lookout."
Some months previously the detective had installed a private wire which
connected him directly with the police station. He used it now to talk
confidentially with the police commissioner.
"I must go downtown at once," he informed Penny regretfully after
making the call. "Don't wait up for me. I probably won't return until
late."
At midnight Mr. Nichols had not come home. Penny, after dozing for
some hours in the big easy chair, went off to bed. Not until morning
at the breakfast table did she learn of the night's activities.
"As usual we failed to make a capture," the detective acknowledged
gloomily. "The police bottled up all the main highways leading from
the city. All suspicious trucks were searched. We thought certain
we'd catch Molberg with the goods, but he was just a little too smart
for us again."
"Were many wheels stolen last night?" Penny inquired curiously.
"A good truck load at least. This case has begun to make me look like
an amateur. If I don't begin to close in on the Molberg gang soon I'll
be the laughing stock of the city."
"You'll solve the case," Penny smiled confidently.
"I'm not so sure of that. You see, while Molberg is a daring crook,
the evidence indicates that he is merely a go-between for a far more
clever criminal. A master mind plans out every move that the gang
makes, yet doubtlessly that person has never been under suspicion.
Such a man always takes care to keep within the law himself although he
engineers the most daring crimes by means of his henchmen."
"And of course they take all the risk."
"Yes, if his gang is broken up, he merely organizes another."
"Have you no clue as to where this so called 'master mind' may be?"
"None whatsoever. He has kept his hand well hidden. We have made a
few arrests but the men can't be made to talk. It may be that they
aren't even aware of his identity."
"I don't suppose you've ever been able to get any evidence against that
place where Susan bought the stolen wheel," Penny ventured.
"No, nothing of value. The owner has a very bad name. No doubt he is
receiving stolen goods, but it is always hard to prove anything."
Penny relapsed into a thoughtful silence which she presently ended by
saying:
"You know, Dad, a peculiar thing happened yesterday. I don't suppose
it could have the slightest connection with the case and yet it set me
to thinking."
"What was that?" Mr. Nichols asked smilingly.
"I saw George Brunner talking with Jerry Barrows in his office."
"That young protege of yours?"
"He isn't any longer," Penny retorted. "I realize now that I was
deceived by his story. But why should he be working for Mr. Brunner?"
"That can be explained easily. I suppose Brunner didn't take the
trouble to check up his record."
"He was threatening the boy," Penny reported, her eyebrows puckering
into a frown. "I distinctly heard him say: 'You'll do as I tell you
or--' Then he saw me and broke off."
"You're certain that was what he said?"
"Of course I am! You don't think I imagined it, I hope!"
"No," Mr. Nichols laughed, "but one's ears often distort conversation.
It does seem a little odd that Brunner should have any connection with
this boy. Still, there must be a logical explanation. Brunner's
reputation is above reproach, you know."
"I don't think he's so very honest," Penny declared. "After the way he
acted about Susan's car I wouldn't trust him an inch."
"Brunner does make glib promises," the detective admitted. "In
general, however, he seems to have operated his business honestly. He
has made a great deal of money, Penny, and is considered one of Belton
City's leading citizens."
"I don't see where he makes all his money," Penny complained.
"Whenever you go into his garage it's usually deserted, although he
keeps a horde of discourteous workmen."
"Brunner hasn't been doing so well of late," Mr. Nichols agreed.
"I think he'd bear watching," Penny said darkly.
"I'll turn the task over to you," Mr. Nichols chuckled. "I shouldn't
care for it myself. Digging up the black history of influential
citizens isn't the most profitable occupation in the world."
Realizing that she was being teased, Penny dropped the subject.
However, no sooner had her father buried himself in his newspaper again
than she thought of another question which she could not resist asking.
"What did you learn about that license number I gave you last night,
Dad?"
"It was issued in this county. Without the complete number it will be
impossible to trace the car."
Mr. Nichols again turned to his newspaper and Penny permitted him to
read undisturbed. She knew that he regarded her interest in the
Molberg case with amusement. He was humoring her in her desire to play
at being a detective. But while he listened politely to her questions
and suggestions, he did not really believe that her contributions were
of great value.
"I wish I could show him!" Penny thought determinedly. "Maybe I shall
too!"
Mr. Nichols, blissfully unaware of what his daughter was thinking, left
the breakfast table.
"I'll be out of the city all day," he informed. "I may get back late
tonight but I can't be sure of it. I guess you'll be well looked after
by Mrs. Gallup."
"And by Joe," Penny added. "Must he always trail me around, Dad? I'm
getting so tired of it."
Mr. Nichols smiled broadly.
"From Joe's daily reports, I suspected he was the one who was growing
tired. You seem to have led him a rapid-fire chase. He turned in a
bill for nearly forty gallons of gasoline last week."
"He must be drinking it then!" Penny retorted. "I'm sure my old car
couldn't have traveled any such distance. But seriously, can't you
discharge him?"
"Not until the case is finished, Penny."
"And when will that be?"
"I wish I knew. If all cases were as annoying as this one, I'd soon be
out of business. But we have several new leads. I'm hoping something
will develop within the next week."
"I may do a little sleuthing of my own just to hurry matters along,"
Penny warned with a laugh.
"Go as far as you like," Mr. Nichols said, undisturbed. "I depend upon
Joe to see that you don't get into too hot water."
After her father had left the house, Penny went to the Y.W.C.A. where
she taught a Friday morning swimming class. By eleven o'clock she was
through her work and had the entire day before her.
Making her way to the business section of the city, she did a little
shopping at one of the department stores. As she was buying a pair of
gloves, she heard her name spoken. Turning, she found Betty Davis
standing beside her.
"I saw you from across the aisle," the girl smiled. "I was just
starting home." She hesitated, then said hurriedly: "I don't suppose
you'd care to take luncheon with me?"
"Why, I'd love it," Penny responded instantly.
"I'm not much of a cook," Betty confessed modestly, "but I can always
scare up a sandwich or so."
Penny welcomed an opportunity to visit the Davis home again for despite
Betty's peculiar actions, she felt that the girl really liked her. As
they boarded a street car, it occurred to her that she had been invited
for a particular purpose. The girl grew increasingly ill at ease.
Conversation became difficult although Penny made a special effort to
be agreeable.
Not until luncheon had been served and the dishes washed, did Betty
bring up the matter which had been troubling her.
"I'm worried about Father," she confessed. "The truth is, he's in
danger of losing his position and through no fault of his own."
Penny remained silent and the girl went on with increasing
embarrassment.
"I don't know how to say it--you've been so kind to me. But I was
wondering--do you think Mr. Nichols might be induced to intercede in
behalf of my father?"
"I'll speak to him about it," Penny promised, "but I think perhaps it
would be better if your father talked with him personally----"
"Oh, no," Betty said hastily, "he'd never do that! You see, he doesn't
know that I have said anything to you. I'm sure he wouldn't like it."
"I see," Penny responded quietly. "I'll talk with Father, but I am
afraid it will do no good."
Betty's shoulders slumped, although she tried to smile bravely.
"I shouldn't have made the request. Please forget it."
"No, I mean to talk to Father about it," Penny insisted.
"It's very kind of you. I'd never have mentioned the matter at all
only I realize my father will never turn a hand to defend himself
against unjust accusations."
The conversation shifted to less personal subjects. As Penny arose to
leave a half hour later she spoke casually of Betty's brother and was
surprised to notice a strained expression pass over the girl's face.
"You were going to show me his picture the other day when I was here,"
she reminded Betty.
"Oh, yes, so I was," the other agreed but with out enthusiasm. "Jimmie
is very good looking. I guess I told you he was a football player at
Waltham High last year."
"I'd like to meet him," Penny remarked.
"Jimmie isn't home very much of the time," Betty returned hastily.
"But at least I can see his picture," Penny said, watching the girl
closely.
"Why, yes," Betty stammered, ill at ease. "I'll get it."
She went into an adjoining room and did not return for some minutes.
She did not bring the photograph. Avoiding Penny's gaze, she said
apologetically:
"I can't seem to find it anywhere. I must have misplaced the photo."
"It doesn't matter," Penny returned politely.
She had guessed instantly that Betty had made no real effort to find
the photograph. For some reason the girl no longer wished her to see
it.
After chatting for a short while longer, Penny took her leave.
"Now I wonder why Betty was so reluctant to have me see the picture,"
she reflected as she walked slowly toward the street car line. "I'm
more interested in it now than I was before."
It occurred to Penny that if only she could find a copy of the previous
year's Waltham High School annual, Jimmie Davis' picture was almost
certain to appear in it.
"Margery Barclay's brother attended that school," she recalled. "I
might be able to get an annual from him. It won't be out of my way to
stop at their house on my way home."
When she called at the Barclay residence, Mrs. Barclay answered the
door. Upon learning that neither Margery nor her brother were at home,
Penny mentioned the purpose of her call.
"Why, yes, we have one of the annuals," Mrs. Barclay told her. "I am
sure you are very welcome to have it for a few days. I'll find it for
you."
She went to the bookcase and after searching through several shelves
found a thick, dusty volume which she gave to Penny.
"I'll bring it back tomorrow, Mrs. Barclay."
"Keep it as long as you like. No one ever looks at it any more."
Penny thanked Mrs. Barclay, and tucking the book under her arm, walked
slowly toward the street car line. While she stood at the corner
waiting, she turned a few of the pages.
"After I get home I'll go through the annual systematically," she
decided.
A street car stopped at the corner and she boarded it. Seating herself
near the rear, she again interested herself in the book. Although she
found many photographs of football stars, she did not immediately
locate the one for which she searched.
Then she turned a page and a face stood out. Beneath it, a caption
gave the name of Jimmie Davis and a list of his scholastical
achievements. Penny stared at the picture in disbelief.
"No wonder Betty acted as she did!" she told herself excitedly. "Now I
understand perfectly why she didn't want me to see the photograph!"