_In the Dead of Night_
"How about a movie?" suggested Max, as the young couple left the hotel
dining room.
"Oh no, Max," replied Mary Louise. "No, thanks. I have to work now. I'm
going to stay right here."
"In the hotel? Doing what?"
"Some investigating."
"You think that young man is guilty? He looked honest to me."
"No, I don't believe he's guilty. I--I'll explain later, Max, if anything
comes of my investigations.... Now, run along and do something without
me."
"Can I see you tonight?"
"I could probably go to an early show with you after dinner. I'm not
sure, so don't stay in Philadelphia just on account of that. I mean, if
you want to start back home."
"I'm going to start home at daylight tomorrow, morning," replied the
young man. "So I'll surely be around tonight. At Stoddard House soon
after seven."
"All right, I'll see you then. And thanks for a lovely lunch, Max. It's
been wonderful."
The young man departed, and Mary Louise hunted a desk in one of the
smaller rooms of the Bellevue--set aside for writing. She placed a sheet
of paper in front of her and took up a pen, as if she were writing a
letter. But what she really wanted to do was to think.
"I was wrong twice," she reasoned. "First in suspecting Miss Stoddard,
then in believing Miss Weinberger guilty. I'll go more carefully this
time.
"If my very first guess was right--that the transient guests were
stealing the valuables from Stoddard House--I must begin all over again.
Mrs. Hilliard said there were two girls staying at the hotel for a day or
so when the silverware and the vase were stolen.... Are these girls in
league with Mary Green and Pauline Brooks? Are they all members of a
secret band of thieves? That's the first question I have to answer."
She frowned and opened her notebook. Why hadn't she gotten the names of
those girls from Mrs. Hilliard's old register?
The second crime--the stealing of the watches--she could pin on Mary
Green, alias "Blondie Jackson."
Now for the last three robberies. They had all taken place while Pauline
Brooks was at Stoddard House!
Mary Louise considered them separately. Pauline could have stolen Miss
Granger's money and her picture, but it was a man who entered Mary
Louise's bedroom on Friday night and who took her watch and her money.
Was one of those young men whom Pauline was dining with today an
accomplice? If so, how did he escape from the hotel? Out of Pauline's
window?
Finally, she thought over the circumstances of Mrs. Macgregor's robbery,
and she almost laughed out loud at her own stupidity. Pauline had left
her own room as soon as the maid came in to clean it; she had slipped
into Mrs. Macgregor's room and stolen the bag containing the valuables
and had left the hotel immediately, before Mrs. Macgregor came out of her
bath. Why hadn't she thought of that explanation before?
The solution seemed logical and plausible, yet how, Mary Louise asked
herself, could she prove her accusations? None of these girls had been
caught in the act; probably none of them still possessed the stolen
articles, and the money had not been marked in any way or the serial
numbers taken.
This fact was dreadfully discouraging. If Mary Louise could not prove the
girls' guilt, she could do nothing about it. She couldn't even assure
Mrs. Hilliard that there would be no more robberies at Stoddard House,
because she could not know how many members of this gang there were, and
the manager could not suspect every transient guest who came to the
hotel.
No, she concluded, there was nothing to do but try to catch them in a new
crime. If they really made it their business to rob hotels, they would
probably carry out some plan here at the Bellevue tonight. Mary Louise's
only course was to watch them.
With this determination in mind, she went to the clerk's desk in the
lobby.
"Could I see the manager?" she inquired.
The man looked at her quizzingly, wondering whether Mary Louise was a
patron of the hotel or a society girl who wanted to collect money for
something.
"Are you a guest at the hotel, miss?" he asked. "Or have you an
appointment?"
"No to both questions," she replied. "But I am a private detective, and I
want to consult him about something."
"O.K.," agreed the clerk. "What name, please?"
"Mary Louise Gay."
The clerk reached for the telephone, and in another minute he told Mary
Louise where to find the manager's office. She followed his directions
and walked in bravely, hoping that the man would not think she was
dreadfully young.
"I am staying at a small hotel for women called Stoddard House," she
began, "to investigate a series of robberies which they have had there.
The Philadelphia police have my name, and if you wish to identify me,
please call Mr. LeStrange."
"I will take your word for it, Miss Gay," replied the man, smiling.
"These robberies have always occurred when there was a transient guest at
the hotel," she explained. "The last series, while I was at the place,
led me to suspect a certain girl; the series before that led other people
to suspect another girl. I find these two girls are living here now at
the Bellevue--they seem to go from one hotel to another, for they were at
the Ritz only last Saturday. They evidently use different names. I should
like to meet your hotel detective, explain the case to him, and get
permission to watch these two young women."
The manager did not appear as surprised as Mary Louise expected him to
be. But she could not know how common hotel robberies were at the present
time.
"I will send for our detective," he said. "You have my permission to go
ahead--under his orders, of course."
"Oh, thank you!" cried Mary Louise, delighted that so far it had been
easy.
The manager sent for the detective, a nice-looking man of about thirty.
He introduced him as Mr. Hayden, and repeated Mary Louise's story.
"What would your plan be, Miss Gay?" asked the detective. He treated her
respectfully, as if she were indeed a real member of the profession, and
Mary Louise felt proud and happy.
"First of all, I want to find these girls' names on the hotel register
and see what names they are using. Then I want, if possible, to engage a
room near theirs and listen for them all night. And third, I want you, or
one of your assistants, Mr. Hayden, to be right there in readiness, in
case they do anything tonight."
"You haven't evidence enough to convict them of the robberies at Stoddard
House?" asked Mr. Hayden.
"Oh no. I may be entirely mistaken. It is only a clue I am going on. But
I believe it is worth following up."
"What do you say, Hayden?" inquired the manager.
"I'm glad to help," replied the younger man. "I'll be on duty tonight,
anyhow, and I'd enjoy the investigation. Nothing is lost, even if nothing
does happen."
"Then let's go have a look at the register," suggested Mary Louise.
"Better send for it," said the detective. "Arouse no suspicions."
The book was brought to them, and Mary Louise looked carefully for the
names of Pauline Brooks and Mary Green. But she did not find them. She
did, however, find the name of Mary Jackson, and with it a name of
Catherine Smith, both of whom had arrived that day and engaged a room
together on the sixth floor.
"Those must be the girls," she concluded. "Room 607. What's the nearest
room you can give me?"
The manager looked in his records.
"609 is moving out tonight. Would that be time enough--or do you want it
now?"
"No, that's plenty of time. And another thing, can you tell me where Mrs.
Weinberger's room is? I met her at Stoddard House, and she would be a
sort of chaperon for me."
"Her room is on the tenth floor," was the reply: "1026."
"Thanks. Then put me down for 609, and I'll phone Mrs. Weinberger this
afternoon. I'll come back early this evening, and I'll ask Mrs.
Weinberger to meet me in one of the reception rooms. Then, could you come
there too, Mr. Hayden?"
The man nodded, smiling. How correct this girl was about everything!
"Then I believe it's all arranged," said Mary Louise, rising. "I'll go
back to Stoddard House. And if you have a chance, Mr. Hayden, will you
keep your eye on these girls we're suspecting?"
"But I don't know them," he reminded her.
"I'd forgotten that! Well, let me describe them. Maybe if you visit the
sixth floor, you will see them go in and out."
She went on to tell him that Pauline Brooks--or Catherine Smith, as she
called herself here--was a striking brunette, and that her companion,
Mary Green--or Mary Jackson--was noticeably blond; that both girls were
short and slender and wore fur coats and expensive jewelry; that both
were as little like the typical sneak thieves as could possibly be
imagined.
As Mary Louise walked along the street she decided not to tell Mrs.
Hilliard any of the details of her plans or who the girls were that she
was watching. If nothing came of her theory, she would feel foolish at
having failed the third time. Besides, it wasn't fair to the girls to
spread suspicion about them until she had proved them guilty.
She stopped at a jewelry store and purchased a small, cheap watch, which
she put into her handbag. Then she went back to the hotel.
Immediately upon her arrival at Stoddard House she called Mrs. Weinberger
on the telephone; then, assured of her coöperation, she went to Mrs.
Hilliard's office.
"I have decided to spend the night at the Bellevue," she said. "Mrs.
Weinberger is going to be my chaperon."
The manager looked doubtful. "But I promised your father I'd keep you
right here with me," she objected.
"I know, but this is important. I think I'm on the track of a discovery.
And Mrs. Weinberger has promised to look after me."
"Does she know that you suspect her daughter, Mary Louise?"
"No, because I don't suspect her any longer. Or her new husband either.
My clues point in another direction. This time I'm not going to say
anything about them till I find out how they work out."
"I suppose it will be all right, then," agreed Mrs. Hilliard
reluctantly.... "What are your immediate plans, dear?"
"I'm going to sleep now till six o'clock, because it's possible I may be
awake most of the night. I'll have my dinner here with you then, or with
the Walder girls, and after that I'm going to a show with Max. About
nine-thirty I'll get to the Bellevue--Mrs. Weinberger is going to wait up
for me and go to my room with me."
"I'm afraid something may happen to you!" protested the good woman.
Mary Louise laughed.
"Mrs. Hilliard, you aren't a bit like an employer to the detective she
has hired. Instead, you treat me like a daughter. And you mustn't. I
shan't be a bit of use to you if you don't help me go ahead and work
hard."
"I suppose you're right, Mary Louise," sighed Mrs. Hilliard. "But I had
no idea what a lovable child you were when I told your father I didn't
mind hiring anybody so young as long as she got results."
"I only hope I do!" exclaimed Mary Louise fervently.
She went to her own room, packed only her toilet articles in her
handbag--for she had no intention of going to bed that night--and lay
down for her nap. It was dark when she awakened.
Dressing hurriedly, and taking her hat and coat with her, she met the
Walder girls in the lobby and accepted their invitation to eat dinner
with them. Immediately afterwards Max arrived at the hotel, and the young
couple went directly to a movie.
When it was over, the young man suggested that they go somewhere to eat
and dance.
Mary Louise shook her head.
"I'm sorry, Max--I'd like to, but I can't. This is all I can be with you
tonight. I want you to take me to the Bellevue now. I'm spending the
night there."
"What in thunder are you doing that for?" he stormed.
"Please calm down, Max!" she begged. "It's perfectly all right: Mrs.
Weinberger is going to meet me and look after me. But I'd rather you
didn't say anything about it to Mother--I can explain better when I get
home."
"Still, I don't like it," he muttered.
Nevertheless, he took her to the hotel and waited with her until Mrs.
Weinberger came downstairs.
"Don't forget to be back home for the dance a week from tonight, Mary
Lou!" he said at parting.
Mary Louise turned to Mrs. Weinberger.
"Have you seen the girls--Pauline Brooks and Mary Green?" she asked. She
had explained over the telephone why she wanted to stay at the Bellevue.
"No, I haven't," replied the older woman. "But then, I have been in my
own room."
"How late do you expect to stay up tonight, Mrs. Weinberger?"
"Till about eleven, I suppose."
"Will you bring your knitting or your magazine to my room till you're
ready to go to bed?"
"Certainly--I'll be glad to have your company, my dear."
Mr. Hayden, the hotel detective, stepped out of the elevator and came to
join them.
"There's a sitting room on the sixth floor," he said. "Suppose I go there
about midnight, Miss Gay? I'm going to have a nap now, but my assistant
is in charge, and if you need him, notify the desk, and he'll be with you
immediately. Is that O.K.?"
"Perfectly satisfactory," agreed Mary Louise.
Taking the key to her room, she and Mrs. Weinberger went up together.
Pauline's room was apparently dark, but Mary Louise left her own door
open so that Mrs. Weinberger could watch for the girls. She herself took
up a position where she could not be seen from the doorway. She turned on
the room radio, and a couple of hours passed pleasantly.
At eleven o'clock Mrs. Weinberger decided to go to her own room and go to
bed. When she had gone, Mary Louise turned off the light and the radio
and closed her door. Pulling a comfortable chair close beside the
keyhole, she sat down to wait and to listen for Pauline's and Mary's
return.
The elevators clicked more frequently as midnight approached; more and
more guests returned to their rooms. Mary Louise watched them all until
she saw Pauline Brooks and Mary Green come along the passageway. They
were in high spirits, laughing and talking noisily without any regard for
the sleepers in the hotel. Even through the thick walls, Mary Louise
could hear them as they prepared for bed.
But in half an hour all was quiet. Both girls were asleep, no doubt--and
Mary Louise believed that she had had all her trouble for nothing. She
sighed and dozed in her chair.
However, she was not used to sleeping sitting up, and every little noise
in the hall aroused her attention. She heard a man come along at two
o'clock, and another at half-past. And a little after three she
identified the muffled sound of the door of the next room opening!
Leaning forward tensely, she glued her eye to the keyhole. Two young men
emerged from the girls' room and staggered about unsteadily, as if they
were drunk. Two very small men, who somehow looked more like masqueraders
than real men, although they were correctly dressed, except for the fact
that they wore their caps instead of hats and had not taken them off in
the hotel.
In spite of their apparently intoxicated condition they walked silently
across the hall to room 614. Very cautiously one of them took a key from
his pocket, and after a moment or two, he opened the door. Both young men
entered the room, but Mary Louise saw that they did not turn on the light
as they went in.
"There's something queer about that," she thought. And then she
remembered the burglar who had entered her own room at Stoddard House and
had stolen her watch. He was very like these young men--short and slight
and wore a cap. Perhaps these were Pauline's accomplices!
Cautiously she moved her chair aside and slipped out of her room. In
another moment she had reached the sitting room where Mr. Hayden, the
detective, was dozing over a newspaper.
"Come with me!" she said briefly, leading him to room 614. "I saw two
young men enter this room a couple of minutes ago."
The detective knocked gently on the door. There was no reply. He knocked
again.
The startled voice of a man called out, "What do you want?"
"I'm the hotel detective," answered Mr. Hayden. "I'm sorry to disturb
you, but please open the door."
A light flashed on in the room, and an elderly man, now clad in his
dressing gown, admitted Mary Louise and Mr. Hayden.
"This young lady thinks she saw two young men come in here five minutes
ago," explained the latter. "Were you asleep, sir?"
"Yes," was the reply. "Your knock waked me up."
"Then, if you don't mind, we'll search the room. Have you anything
valuable here?"
"I certainly have! A wallet with five hundred dollars, and a set of
diamond shirt studs."
Mr. Hayden went straight to the closet and turned on the light. Feminine
giggles greeted his action.
"Don' be mad at us, mishter!" pleaded a girl's voice. "We jus' had a
leetle too mush likker, and we wanted to get some shirt studs for our
costumes. We're goin' to a nish party, dreshed up like men!"
Mr. Hayden smiled and pulled out the two "young men" from the closet. As
he snatched off their caps, Mary Louise recognized them instantly.
Pauline Brooks and Mary Green!
"Pauline!" she cried.
"Emmy Lou!" In her surprise, Pauline forgot to act drunk. But the next
moment she remembered.
"Pleash let us go, mishter," she pleaded, taking hold of Mr. Hayden's
coat collar. "Was only jus' a prank----"
"Prank nothing!" cried Mary Louise. "And these girls aren't intoxicated,
either, Mr. Hayden."
"No, I don't believe they are," agreed the detective. He turned to the
owner of the room. "Suppose you check up on your valuables, sir, while I
call the police."
"You're not going to send us to jail!" protested Pauline, in a perfectly
normal tone. "But we haven't stolen anything."
"You stole plenty at Stoddard House," Mary Louise couldn't help saying.
Pauline regarded her accuser with hatred in her eyes.
"So you're the one who's responsible for this!" she hissed. "Nasty little
rat! And I thought you were a friend of mine!"
Mary Louise laughed.
"I'll be a friend when you and your gang give back all the stolen
articles and money," she replied.
The elderly man who lived in the room interrupted them.
"Two studs are missing," he announced. "I found the wallet with my money
in it on the floor. Yet it was carefully put away last night."
"Take off your shoes, Pauline!" ordered Mary Louise. "That's the place to
find missing diamonds."
The girl had to obey, and the studs fell out on the floor.
"It's enough," concluded Mr. Hayden. "Here comes my assistant. You girls
will come with us till the police arrive."
"Not in these clothes!" objected Mary Green.
"Yes, just as you are." He turned to the man. "And now, good-night, sir."
"Good-night, and thank you a thousand times!" was the reply.
"Thank Miss Gay," amended Mr. Hayden. "It was her work."
Tired but satisfied, Mary Louise went back to her own room, and, removing
only her shoes and her dress, she slept soundly for the rest of the
night.