SPIRITED, maidenly purity will work itself into a sort of ecstatic,
swaggering turbulence, similar to a hardened degenerate, frequently to
the chagrin, disappointment and dismay of the most practiced.
When through with Miss Bascom, I will confess I could not tell in which
class she belonged. War had brought to our shores hideous flotsam, whom
I did not care, did not want, to know. I wanted trap bait, and why not
her? Had I mentioned my belief that she had sent the anonymous notes to
Hiram, or that she had been seen dining with the Gold-Beater, Hiram
Strong, Sr., after six hours' business acquaintance, her attitude would
have instantly developed.
A certain cold-blooded brutality in what I proposed must be admitted. I
wanted to clear Hiram and finish a long-drawn-out case, and one doesn't
want to know the pedigree of the lamb used as bait for a lion. But I
proposed to save her from the fate of the lamb in such cases, although
she had consented, without duress, to act. I felt that it was Burrell
she wanted to save.
I gave her some work that would occupy about all the afternoon, and took
measures to prevent her leaving the building or telephoning without
being overheard.
Becker was in the city and about his office. His business was
flourishing.
With the coöperation of the hotel management two communicating rooms on
the second floor were arranged for at the hotel frequented by Becker,
and these were prepared for my purpose.
At four o'clock when I asked her to dress for the street and come with
me, she did so without hesitation--in fact, she seemed eager--but I
could not be sure of that.
As we walked silently down to the hotel she appeared to be sure of
herself, and if she was surprised when we entered the ladies' entrance
and walked up the one flight to the rooms, she gave no evidence of it. I
felt assured she had the necessary self-control.
She was quick to notice that the door between the two rooms was open,
but made no comment, and apparently as though in her own lodgings,
removed her hat, to make herself comfortable. She went to the glass,
touched her wonderful hair here and there as though to add something to
its alluring arrangement, impressing me anew that she was in point of
beauty, at least, a most attractive girl, and I again complimented
Becker's ambitious taste and selection. As for throwing herself away for
the married, sporting Burrell, I pitied her for her lack of
discrimination.
She took the chair I pointed to in front of a writing desk on which was
the room telephone. The way she rested her elbow on it and half turned
toward me suggested that she awaited my signal of "what next?"
"Miss Bascom," said I, taking a chair facing her, "I feel like warning
you that you are undertaking a most delicate, difficult, and even
dangerous enterprise. If you fail through inability, it will be
understood, but if you fail by reason of half-heartedness or any sort of
treachery, I will not be responsible. I am positively in no mood to
condone such an offense, besides I am not the only one involved in this
arrangement--there are others who are less likely to be trifled with
than myself." I spoke good-naturedly and with something of a plea for
her own welfare.
"Mr. Taylor," she began, in quiet, sweet, Southern accent, "I have
consented to act a part in good faith, and if I fail it will be because
it cannot be done." Then, with charming assurance, she glanced into the
other room and at the telephone before her, and said, "Explain just what
you want me to do."
She seemed almost too willing and a certain nervousness in her tone left
some doubt. But we had arranged for duplicity, and though I felt the ice
a little thin, decided to go ahead.
"Miss Bascom, your motive in maintaining relations with Mr. Becker is
something of a conjecture that I am not much interested in now. It may
interest you, however, to know that I know of your meeting with him in a
wine room of this hotel." Then taking from my pocket a typewritten
report of the meeting, I continued, "The least sound that was made in
that room at that time is here recorded as nearly as possible in words
and sound of voice. I know what you drank, what he drank, that you
submitted to his caresses, kisses, that he made salacious proposals,
and there may have been subsequent meetings of which we do not know."
She started visibly at this and moved uneasily in her chair, laid her
chin in her palm and looked straight at me with eyes burning like
fire--I thought slightly mixed with alarm and amusement, but she did not
utter a word, so I continued:
"In order that you proceed intelligently in this matter I will tell you
that Becker is a criminal and that we have ample evidence to convict
him, but in order to make it easier, and to reach others, I want you to
get him to come up here to this room, then actually lure from him what
we want."
She made no sign and I went on:
"There are times when fire must be met with fire, crime sometimes has to
be uncovered by finesse, strategy, trick, even downright subterfuge, and
this seems to be one of the times. His weakest point is his penchant for
pretty women."
Miss Bascom evidenced intense interest in what I said and seemed to
weigh every word I uttered. But she did not appear to want to reply or
suggest anything, though she seemed to take on an exultant attitude.
"We have ample evidence to convict him of robbing cars of meat
products, and to do this he must have in his possession the seals of the
United States Bureau of Animal Industry, and the shippers of the goods
in Kansas City, as well as the railroad seals, and the instruments for
adjusting. These we want.
"We believe that he has them secreted here in New Orleans. The plan is
that by your protestation of interest, affection or whatnot, you will
induce him to place them in your hands for safekeeping. We are certain
he has been furnished these things with help from Kansas City. Do you
think you can do it?" I ended by asking suddenly.
"What will happen if I fail?" she surprised me by asking.
"If you fail and can show a clean slate, nothing unpleasant will
happen," I replied rather coldly, suggestive of what might happen if the
reverse were true.
"_I--think_--I may be able to make some headway, but it may take more
time than you anticipate," she warned me quietly.
"I don't care how much time you take, or how much expense, but it must
be a continuous performance--nothing more than an intermission will be
allowable. This telephone will be permanently connected with mine in the
next room. If he wants you to drink, do so, and nothing containing
alcohol will come to you, and though he is copper-lined, we will
contrive to put him at a disadvantage and you can easily use the 'phone
to ask for instructions when you are not sure." Then contemplating her
critically for a moment, I added--"You said you were willing to do
_anything_."
"I know I did--and I will--and I begin to feel safe--you will protect
me, won't you?" she asked me with a delightful appeal in her eyes that
could not be refused.
"Every precaution has been made for that--you will not be disturbed; the
waiter who serves you is one of our men--but you must act, you must
succeed. Becker is probably in his office now; call him up," I added,
giving his number.
There was no doubt about her eagerness and distinct intention to
succeed, to do _anything_, but I could not decide whether she was moved
by fear or a genuine desire to coöperate, get revenge, or to save
Burrell.
Becker fell incontinently during the first round.
There was in every word a purr, a coo, an invitation--she assumed the
attitude of permitting him to come up, to see her for just a little
while at the hotel.
Her low laugh of triumph was more of a chuckle as she turned to me for
approbation.
"Fine--so far very good," I commented as though the result was no more
than expected and prepared to go into the other room and lock the door,
where she did not know I could overhear every whisper that passed,
though she may have suspected something of the sort.
Becker's haste to get there was evidenced by the speed with which he
came, and his entrance was Falstaffian. But the real Falstaff had no
such intrigue arranged for him. He was not a criminal.
The meeting between Bascom and Becker lasted over six hours. The
stenographers at the dictaphone in my room made over a hundred pages of
evidence to be used at the trial.
When it was over, just before midnight, and I led Miss Bascom out of the
hotel to a cab, her sturdy body seemed a wreck. She leaned heavily on me
and seemed to have aged greatly. As she was about to enter the vehicle,
she looked back into the building, horrified, as though reason was
unseated by wild imaginations that she was pursued by a legion of
dreaded devils. She did not utter a word until she was seated inside,
when she reached her hand, delicate and soft, for mine, and with gentle
pressure, exclaimed as though waking from a terrible nightmare:
"Mr. Taylor, I have lived a hundred years in the last six
hours--but--but"--she hesitated, gasping for breath--"I have done what
I--we--what you wanted me to do."
Of course, when Becker first came the overture was drink; it always is.
Having full control of that through the waiter we saw that the first
ones had more punch than he expected, but we gave her a mere counterfeit
of what he thought she was drinking. The sumptuous food he ordered was
carefully served. Later we had to weaken his potions so that his mad
desire would run at its height, waiting on neither discretion nor
reason. I heard every word, every sound. Her acting was perfection. The
indignities she suffered were terrible and could not have been endured
except for the reason that they were fortified by a deep, enduring,
sacrificial tendency to be loyal. This conclusion forced itself upon me.
His protestations were repeated over and over and merged into a plea for
sympathy.
Her generalship was superb. He promised her everything. She patiently,
cautiously led him to the point where she told him, that by reason of
her position in the office she knew he had been _led_ into certain
transactions that might lead to her disgrace, in view of the alliance he
proposed.
"But that is all stopped," he reiterated a dozen times.
Then, with wonderful acumen, she let him understand that she knew of the
existence of various stamps and seals, finally that their very existence
was a menace and she could not feel any security in his promise until
she knew they were destroyed.
"I will put them at the bottom of the river to-morrow morning."
"But if you are really in earnest and mean well, you will do that now,
this very night--let me see you do it, or bring them to me," she coaxed,
wheedled, insinuated.
And then finally with the blood fired by alcohol and that quality that
makes men putty in the hands of beauty and sex lure, he ordered a cab
and in an incredibly short time returned with quite a large package
wrapped carefully in burlap. He left the room for a moment in his
preparations for the anticipated night. I opened the door between the
rooms, admitted her with the package, about all she could carry, and he
never saw her again. The mad, inflamed bull was stalled with a ring in
his nose.
This blazed the trail to Kansas City, where I started on the next train,
and did not return for more than a week.