Detective Riley grasped the nearest telephone and sent an alarm to
headquarters. Less than an hour later the report came that Verbeck’s
roadster had been found abandoned on a corner in the heart of the
city, but that no trace of the Black Star had been discovered.
In the meantime the night clerk had told his simple story. A man had
entered and asked whether a Mr. Rodney Stone lived there. The clerk
said no such person was registered. Sure that no other person was in
the office, the visitor pulled an automatic from his pocket and
ordered the clerk to throw up his hands.
The clerk was forced to obey, and believed at the time that he was the
victim of an ordinary holdup man, and rejoiced that all funds, except
a few dollars, were locked in the safe, which he could not open. But
his visitor walked behind the counter and forced the clerk to stretch
out on the floor, threatening death if he made a sound. He bound and
gagged him, pinned the card to his breast, and stamped his brow with a
black star, then walked calmly to the switchboard, looked at the guest
list to find the number of Verbeck’s apartment, called Verbeck, held
his conversation, and hurried out of the front door.
Gentlemen guests of the house in all sorts of night attire heard this
story and looked upon Roger Verbeck with varied emotions. Some envied
him the adventure and publicity, others feared for him, but the great
majority was thinking of that warning and wondering whether they could
find new quarters that day, and Roger Verbeck knew it.
The manager said nothing, for Verbeck had lived there for years and
was excellent pay, but he looked worried.
“I’ll discuss this matter with you later,” Roger said, and he beckoned
Muggs and Riley and led the way back to his apartment.
There they lighted fresh cigars and sat at the long table in the
library, Muggs and Riley silent and waiting for Roger to speak.
“Well, we’ve got to move,” he said after a time. “If we don’t, the
others will, for they’ll be afraid the Black Star will demolish the
place with a bomb. Perhaps it’ll be best, after all.”
“But where?” Riley asked. “He’d bomb another hotel just as quick if
that’s his game.”
“I have a place of my own—the old Verbeck place, Riley. You know it.
Muggs knows it, too, for there we kept the Black Star prisoner for a
day and night before we handed him over to the police.”
“I remember it,” Riley said.
“A big, old house in the middle of a block of ground, surrounded by
trees and tangled underbrush. I intend to have it torn down and a new
residence erected in its place after I’m married. We can go there with
fuel and provisions and make ourselves comfortable. There is a
telephone, so we can keep in touch with headquarters. We’ll be by
ourselves, and so need fear no spies of the Black Star. We can conduct
our campaign from there.”
“Great!” the detective exclaimed.
“No fear of spies, and nobody to bother us. We’ll make it our
headquarters. One of us can be on guard all the time. The Black Star
will have to be very clever to get at us there. And if he does he’ll
be injuring my own property, and he’ll not be hurting some outsider
who has no concern in this affair. Let’s get some sleep, then go ahead
with our preparations.”
It was noon when a much-relieved apartment-house manager saw them
drive away in Verbeck’s recovered roadster, the back of the car heaped
high with provisions. Half an hour later they had reached the old
Verbeck place and unloaded the car; Muggs had built a roaring fire in
the living-room fireplace, and they were making themselves
comfortable.
“This thing of working in the dark gets on my nerves,” Riley admitted.
“I’d rather catch sight of this Black Star committing a crime and have
a chase, a sort of running fight, and either victory or defeat at its
end. But what can we do? Here we must sit, waiting for him to make a
move. How do we know where he’ll strike next? He may rob a bank, rifle
some lady’s jewel case—we can’t tell. We’ve got to wait until he does
something, and then take up the trail. You had a hot trail before,
Roger—one of his men led you to him and you had a chance to get hands
on him.”
“I fancy that, in his egotism, he’ll announce where he’ll strike
next,” Verbeck said. “He’s done it before.”
“If he does it again we’ll get him!” Riley said.
They made a tour of the grounds and looked through the house. There
was little more than dust and cobwebs in the house, and the furniture
was covered, except in the big living room and one bedroom, which they
made habitable. Then they devoured the luncheon Muggs had prepared.
It was four o’clock in the afternoon when there came a knock at the
front door, and when Verbeck opened it he found ten policemen and a
sergeant in plain clothes standing before him.
“What’s this mean?” he demanded.
“Chief’s orders, Mr. Verbeck,” the sergeant replied. “These men are to
surround the block and guard your house.”
“But that is just what we do not want!” Verbeck protested.
“Chief’s orders. Here’s a letter he told me to give you. He got it by
messenger a couple of hours ago.”
He handed Verbeck the letter. It was from the Black Star and addressed
to the chief. It read:
Within four days I will commit my greatest crime since coming to
your fair city.
Within four days I’ll make a huge laughingstock of Roger
Verbeck. His sudden change of residence will not save him from
the punishment I intend administering to him.
Within four days!
*****
Verbeck handed the letter to Riley, and faced the sergeant again.
“No doubt the chief means well, but I don’t need so much police
protection,” he said. “There are three of us here, and all of us will
not sleep at once.”
“My orders, Mr. Verbeck.”
“Telephone the chief,” Riley suggested.
Verbeck hurried to the telephone, and called headquarters and got the
chief.
“I don’t want this squad of men out here, chief,” he said.
“The orders come direct from the mayor, Mr. Verbeck, and he’ll not
countermand them. That threat of the Black Star’s is too strong to be
ignored. I didn’t call you up before I sent the men out because I knew
you’d object. Those men will not bother you. They’ll surround the
block and stay out of your way, and be relieved at stated intervals.
They’ll serve to keep the curious away, and they’ll be there to guard
the house in case you three men rush out on a chase or anything like
that.”
“But——” Verbeck began.
“I insist, Mr. Verbeck. We cannot afford to run chances. If anything
happened to you, and we hadn’t given you protection after receiving
those threats, we’d never hear the last of it. You’re a prominent
young man, remember. Just let the men stay. You haven’t heard
anything, have you?”
“Not a thing,” Verbeck replied, “and we can’t make a move until we
do.”
“We’ve got the greatest dragnet in the history of the department in
operation—watching every exit from the city and searching
everywhere—have corralled half a hundred suspects already. If the
Black Star is in the city we’ll get him. We’re only hoping he’s brazen
enough to tip off where he is or what he intends doing. If he does, he
may find he has gone too far.”
“But really, chief, I’d rather not have the men here.”
A rattling noise came through the telephone, and another voice spoke.
“Get off the line!” the chief roared. “This line’s busy.”
“Pardon me,” said the voice. “I just wanted to tell Mr. Verbeck that
he’d better let the police remain. He’ll need them to guard him.”
“Who the devil are you?” the chief roared.
“I am the Black Star!”
“W-what?”
“Fact, I assure you. You might as well shout from the housetops,
chief. I know everything you do and say. So you’ve got out the
dragnet, eh? Might as well call in your men; it’ll not do any good to
tire them out.”
“How—what——” the chief stammered. He was beginning to realize that the
Black Star actually was on the line and speaking.
“Don’t excite yourself, chief. And you, Mr. Verbeck, if you relish
protection, better let the chief scatter a hundred men around your
place. Even that number wouldn’t save you!”
“How’d you get on this line? Where are you?” the chief shouted into
the instrument, not realizing he was talking foolishly.
“Possibly I’ve tapped the line right in police headquarters
building—who knows?” the Black Star taunted. “And you scarcely can
expect me to tell you where I am. Why not find me? Go right on hoping
I’ll be brazen enough to tip off what I intend doing, chief—it does a
person good to hope.”
“You—you’re a devil!” the chief exploded.
“Thanks for the compliment! Good-by!”
Again the rattling sound, and then they heard the Black Star’s voice
no more.