A WOMAN!
When Danny made this declaration, Scanlon leaned back in his chair and
drew a long breath of mingled surprise and satisfaction. So that had
been the subject of Fenton's excited consultation with Hutchinson--a
diamond necklace, pawned, or sold, by a woman. And from Fenton's own
words, it was a thing he had been expecting.
Bat was about to break into a detailed account of all he had seen and
heard since his last conversation with the investigator; but Ashton-Kirk
was closely questioning Danny, so the big man held his peace. Finally
the office boy had told all he knew and departed; then Bat, comfortably
settled back in his chair, spoke.
"A flat-nosed fellow, eh?" said he. "Name of Fenton, I think."
He saw the keen eyes of the other flash him a look; it was the first
surprise Scanlon had noted in Ashton-Kirk since the hunt began, and it
filled him with immense satisfaction. He reached for a cigar and lighted
it carefully.
"Lives in a tenement house, off on the other end of town," said he,
after he had the cigar going well. "The same house where I ran across
you--remember?"
Ashton-Kirk laughed.
"You are coming on," said he.
"Maybe," nodded the big athlete, "a little faster than you think, even
now. I've had a few things happen to me in the last twenty-four hours
that have lots of ginger in them."
And so, pausing now and then to draw at his cigar, he related all that
had occurred both on that night and the night before. Ashton-Kirk
listened with careful attention, and when Bat had finished, he said:
"You appear to have had quite a time of it. I am obliged to you for some
of the points you have made; they throw light upon corners which up to
now have been rather obscure."
"What worries me," said Bat, "is that----"
But the investigator stopped him.
"To worry in a matter like this is to admit that you are jumping at
conclusions," said Ashton-Kirk. "And that only, so to speak, clouds the
water; it makes it almost impossible to see any distance ahead, and
spoils one's judgment of what is already in one's hand."
There was a short pause, and then the speaker went on:
"I grew somewhat interested in Gaffney's place at once upon hearing
Dennison speak of it that afternoon at the Polo Club. After assuming the
disguise you saw me in, I went there and engaged in a game at one of the
tables. Inside of an hour I had the information that the Bounder had
occasionally visited the place, and always to meet a man of the name of
Fenton. Fenton was in the rooms at the time, and when he went home I
trailed him. I rented the room almost across the hall from his, with the
same idea in my mind as that of your friend the burglar's."
"I got that at the time," spoke Bat Scanlon. "But what _was_ the idea?"
"There were diamonds in question," said Ashton-Kirk. "The diamonds Tom
Burton took from Nora Cavanaugh. It occurred to me, after considering
the matter carefully, that Fenton might have them in his possession. But
my search of his room, just finished as Bohlmier and Big Slim arrived,
showed me that they were not kept there, at least."
"This whole business about those diamonds sounds kind of funny to me,"
said Bat. "Nora told her maid she put them away in a bank vault; how do
you know she didn't recover them in some way and do just that very
thing?"
Ashton-Kirk pressed one of the series of call bells.
"That brings us to a point upon which I think we can expect definite
intelligence," said he.
In a few moments Fuller appeared, dapper and alert.
"How soon will you be ready to make a report upon the matter you have
been working up?" asked the investigator.
"Right away," replied Fuller, as he spread some typewritten papers upon
the table. "I put it on the machine while I was waiting to speak to
you."
Ashton-Kirk took up the sheets, and his eyes ran quickly over them.
"This is about what I expected," said he, finally. "You are sure you
missed no one?"
"Quite sure. I first called on those banks and trust companies which I
fancied Miss Cavanaugh did business with. She had an account in several.
But she had no box in the safety deposit vault, and she had deposited
nothing save money. I went from one bank to another; some of them were
disinclined to give any information, but when they were convinced it was
police business, they answered my questions."
"The result, then, is that Miss Cavanaugh did _not_ deposit anything in
the vaults of any bank in the city."
"She did not," replied Fuller, positively.
The investigator looked at Scanlon, and the big man nodded his head,
gravely.
"All right," said he; "that's settled. And now what comes next?"
"From what you have told me and from what Danny has said," replied
Ashton-Kirk, "I rather think a little talk with Fenton would not be out
of place."
"Good!" said Bat.
"First," continued the investigator, "we'll see what's to be had from
his friend, Hutchinson. I'm rather of the opinion that he has some
information which would be of use to us."
They rose, and as they put on hats and coats, Ashton-Kirk said to
Fuller:
"Perhaps you'd better come along, Fuller. If things go as I think they
will we are in for a rather busy night and may need your help."
The three boarded a street car not far from the investigator's house;
after they had alighted, a walk of ten minutes brought them to Gaffney's
place.
"Remain within call," said Ashton-Kirk to his aide. "We may need you at
any moment."
"Right," said the young man, readily. "I'll be somewhere about."
Scanlon pushed open Gaffney's door and entered, followed by Ashton-Kirk.
The place was crowded; the air was thick with the smoke of poor tobacco;
the fox-like young men still made the skilful strokes at the tables, and
the walls were lined, as usual, with men who either stared vacantly, or
scowled with predatory longing.
Hutchinson, with his striped sleeves and his carefully waved hair, was
in the back room engaged with an exceptionally clever gentleman who made
shot after shot of almost miraculous character. Ashton-Kirk and Scanlon
waited until the game was run through, then the former touched
Hutchinson upon the arm.
"Could we have a word with you?" asked the investigator.
"Certainly." Hutchinson smiled agreeably. "Of course."
They took him aside, and Ashton-Kirk looked him steadily in the face
while he said:
"We'd like to ask a question or two about a friend of yours--Fenton."
Hutchinson smiled once more, still agreeably, but with a little less
genuineness.
"Oh, Joe," said he. "Yes, an old pal of mine. What about him?"
"He comes in to see you quite frequently, doesn't he?"
"Why, yes; pretty often." Hutchinson's hand smoothed at the waves of
hair, and through the smile showed evidences of trouble. "But, then,
most of the boys come in often. It's quite a hang-out for most of them."
But Ashton-Kirk refused to consider this last.
"Fenton often met people here, I think," said he, his keen eyes still
fixed upon the other. "People who wanted to see him in the way of
business."
"Why, no," said Hutchinson; "no; I never knew Joe to meet a soul----"
"There was an acquaintance of his named Burton--Tom Burton--sometimes
called the Bounder, who called here at times to talk to him."
Hutchinson's smile disappeared completely, and a glassy look came into
his eyes. "One night, just a week ago, Burton came here; he had some
trouble with Fenton; some hours later he was found murdered."
Hutchinson gasped brokenly; reaching out one trembling hand he touched
Ashton-Kirk's sleeve.
"I didn't have anything to do with that," he said. "I didn't know
anything about it, even, until I saw it in the papers on the day after."
"You _do_ know something about it," said Ashton-Kirk; "so suppose you
tell us--but wait," a new thought apparently occurring to him. "First
call up Fenton, and get him here; we'll want to talk to him, too."
"But I don't know where he----"
"He's at home," said Ashton-Kirk, briefly; "and there is a telephone in
the hall, not a dozen yards from his room."
This precision was too much for Hutchinson; so he went, with scared
face, to a telephone at one side, and asked for a number. The talk
between the two men had been carried on in low tones; none of the
players at the table was aware of its nature. There was a slight delay
in procuring the number asked for, but finally a small, inquiring voice
was heard.
"I want to speak to Fenton," said Hutchinson. "Get him on the 'phone,
will you?"
The small, far-off voice seemed protesting, but Hutchinson urged,
persistently:
"Well, what if he is in bed? This is important. Kick on his door; tell
him Hutchinson wants to speak to him right away."
There was a delay much longer than the first, then another small voice
came over the wire.
"Get a move on you," said Hutchinson. "I want you here right away. A
couple of people want to meet you. Important? Of course it is. Would I
be dragging you out of bed if it wasn't?"
After a little more of the same style of urging, Hutchinson hung up and
turned to Ashton-Kirk.
"He'll be here in ten minutes," said he.
"Very good," said the investigator. The three walked to the
out-of-the-way corner they had occupied before, and the speaker went on:
"I see you understand this is a serious matter, and so nothing but
straightforward answers are expected of you."
"Joe's a pal of mine," said the pool-room manager, "but I don't know
nothing about his affairs. If he's in on croaking this guy, I don't know
anything about it. I'm on the level, and----"
"We are not greatly interested in that," said Ashton-Kirk. "What we want
just now is information as to what happened on the night of the murder."
"I tell you I don't know anything----"
"You were here when the Bounder came to see Fenton, were you not?"
"Yes--I was." The man made the answer with the greatest reluctance, and
his manner said plainly that he'd gladly have lied had he been sure as
to the extent of his questioner's knowledge. "Joe had been out
somewhere, and when he came in he said he had a date with a party. It
was then ten o'clock and after. We talked a while, and then this man
Burton came in. Joe took him to one side and they began to talk. I
didn't pay much attention to them, except that they were having a little
argument over something. Then I heard a kind of a smack, and I looked up
and saw Joe standing with his hand to his face, and the other fellow
turning his back on him just as cool as anything you'd want to put your
eyes on. For a second I thought Joe was going to take the thing and say
nothing; and then----"
The man paused here, and Ashton-Kirk said:
"And then he was about to draw a revolver, but you stopped him."
Hutchinson stared at the speaker; the desire to deny this was strong in
his face, but the certainty of the keen eyes was so great that he said,
weakly:
"Joe was only a little wild, that's all. He didn't mean any harm. When I
spoke to him, he was as quiet as a baby."
Ashton-Kirk asked a dozen more questions regarding the relationship
between the Bounder and Fenton; Hutchinson answered them all
hesitatingly and with many qualifications. Finally, the front door swung
open and Scanlon, who was watching it, said:
"Here's your man now."
Fenton, frowning and evidently in bad humor, entered the back room.
Hutchinson greeted him with:
"Hello, Joe. A couple of people who want to talk to you."
Ashton-Kirk nodded to the broken-nosed man, who looked at him,
inquiringly.
"What do you want?" asked he. "It ought to be something bright to rout a
man out of bed."
"I'd like to ask you one or two questions," said Ashton-Kirk, smoothly.
"Questions!" Fenton's eyes narrowed. "What kind of questions?"
"About Tom Burton," replied Ashton-Kirk. "I'd like to know what
happened after he left this place with you on his track."
Fenton gave a quick, hunted look around; for an instant his eyes rested
upon the street door, but Scanlon's big body was between him and it in a
twinkling.
"It'll be easier to answer the questions," said Bat, unconcernedly.
"We'd get you in a minute or two."
The man's glance went to Hutchinson accusingly, and the manager of the
pool room at once began to protest.
"Honest, Joe, I didn't say a word. They came in here and wanted to see
you, and I thought it best to get it over with."
"You followed Tom Burton to Stanwick," said Ashton-Kirk. "A person who
saw you there has made a direct accusation against you."
The face of the broken-nosed man went white.
"What did they say?" he demanded. "They're liars. What did they say? I
didn't do a thing!"
"Well, if you didn't, the best thing to do is to clear yourself of
suspicion by telling all you know. I have had it from two different
sources that you had business with the Bounder that night. What was its
nature?"
Fenton hesitated a moment; his furtive mind was working desperately for
a way to avoid admitting light upon his doings; but apparently he could
think of none, for he said, slowly:
"I'd been acquainted with Tom Burton for years; sometimes I wouldn't see
anything of him for a long time; and then," bitterly, "I'd know he was
flush. He never came near me unless he was broke and wanted something
done. A couple of weeks ago he showed up and handed me the details of a
little game that looked like easy money; I was to work it and we were to
split the proceeds, fifty-fifty."
"And this, I suppose, is the matter he came to see you about on the
night he was killed?"
"Yes," answered Fenton, and he laughed as he said it. "That's the thing.
He came around like a lord and put his mitt out for his cut of the
plunder. He had an easy way of doing things--so easy that he often took
people by surprise and got by with it. But this time he was in wrong;
I'd been dumped by him so often that I was cagy. I'd looked over the
game he'd handed me--give it a good, careful look, mind you, and I found
there was about twenty per cent. profit and eighty per cent danger. He
was to cut the twenty with me, but I was to take all of the eighty."
"Just like them kind of people," said Hutchinson. "They're always
looking for somebody to take their chances and feed them pap."
"So I called off on the thing," said Fenton; "and when he came around
on the night he said he would, I laid him out--strong--for trying to get
me into such a thing. When he found I'd side-stepped him and there was
no easy money for him, he pulled back and hit me, and then walked out,
expecting to get away with it. I dipped for my gun, I was so sore, but
Hutchinson, here, stopped me. Then I knew that to gun him would be a
boob play; but I meant to get back at him, so I followed him for a
chance to lay him out."
The man paused for a moment or two; the balls clicked about the tables;
the clouds of tobacco smoke drifted among the bright white lights
overhead; the players talked monotonously among themselves.
"He went to an old-fashioned part of the town," said Fenton, "and before
I had a chance had gone into a swell-looking house. He was inside for
about half an hour and I waited for him. When he came out he'd no sooner
hit the sidewalk than I knew something had happened to him. And it was
something good. Before he'd gone in he pulled along pretty slow with his
head down; but now he was chipper and feeling good. As he passed where I
was hid I heard him laugh. I wondered what it was that was doing it, and
in a couple of minutes I found out. He stopped under a light and took
something out of his overcoat pocket. I was near enough to get a slant
at it, and saw he had a whole handful of diamonds."
Hutchinson drew in a long breath; Ashton-Kirk looked at Scanlon, and
that gentleman nodded his satisfaction with the apparent
straightforwardness of the story.
"So, after he had flashed a thing like that," said Fenton, "I altered my
mind a little; I wouldn't do any strong-arm stuff; I'd try and stand it
on the sparks. At first Burton didn't seem to know what to do; he
stopped a couple of times as if he was thinking; then he seemed to grab
at an idea and started off for the railroad station. He bought a ticket
and boarded a local train, and I followed him. He got off at Stanwick
and went at once to the house on Duncan Street.
"I walked into the side yard, for it was pretty dark there at first; but
then the moon came out from behind some buildings and flooded all over
the place, and I had to stick close to the side of the house where the
shadows were."
"Didn't you go to the other side at all?" asked Ashton Kirk.
"Yes; a couple of times, but I couldn't stay long, for I was afraid some
one would see me. Once I looked in at a window that was lighted up, and
there was the Bounder talking to some one, and he was laughing and
showing her diamonds."
"Is that all you saw?"
Fenton shook his head.
"No," said he, "it wasn't. I saw a woman a little while later; she was
snooping around in the dark, and then she hid behind a kind of a thing
that they grow vines over and watched the window."
"What else did you see?" There was a silence after this question; as
Fenton squirmed and shifted his eyes like a trapped tiger, Ashton-Kirk
went on: "Remember, there has been a direct charge against you--that you
killed the man you followed from this place."
"That's a lie," said Fenton. "It's a lie! I didn't! It was that woman
killed him. And I saw her do it!"