The Gray Mask
CHAPTER XI
NORA DISAPPEARS IN AN EMPTY HOUSE
For the first time Garth entered the inspector's office with thediscomfort of a culprit. Yet he could not accuse himself justly ofblundering. Nevertheless the brief telephone conversation with thedoorman had informed him that the inspector attached an uncommonimportance to the chance capture of the Chinaman. Because of it he wouldplace the blame for the suicide where it fell most conveniently.
When he opened the door he appreciated that there was more than that outof the way at headquarters this morning. A woman bent, ancient, poor,sat in a chair to the right of the inspector's desk. He could hazard nomore concerning her, because of an intricately-patterned shawl which wasdraped over her head and nearly covered her face. Her presence was lessastonishing than her bearing in this room, terrible alike to wrong-doersand to the reluctant witnesses of crime. Her attitude, indeed, wasexpectant. Her lack of distrust impressed him as aggressive. Moreover,its customary rumble had left the inspector's voice which had flowed,Garth had remarked, with a conciliatory blandness.
It paused shortly as Garth entered. The huge man turned slowly in hischair. His eyes, somnolent as a rule, fixed Garth with a livelyreproach.
"Shut the door," he grumbled.
Garth obeyed.
"Here's a pretty mess! Why did you bring him in at all?"
"The chink?" Garth asked mildly.
"No," the inspector roared. "Queen Lilliokulani! Who do you suppose Imean? How many mugs have you brought in since I saw you last? Maybe youthought the big Chinese population was unhealthy."
"I never dreamed he'd do that," Garth protected himself.
"Why didn't you warn the boys to keep an eye on him?" the inspectordemanded.
Garth threw up his hands.
"How could I tell? I only brought him in on a chance. I knew you wereafter the funny medicine crowd. He was up to some queer business lastnight, and I thought he looked the type."
"Yes," the inspector agreed drily, "he certainly looked the type, somuch so that I'd gamble that wizzened brain of his held all I want toknow."
He seized a paper weight and commenced to toss it ponderously from fistto fist.
"That's what you've let get away from you. Maybe you'll be accommodatingenough to tell me how you happened to pick him up."
Garth glanced questioningly at the woman.
"Don't fret," the inspector said scornfully. "She won't give you awayeven if you have made an ass of yourself."
Garth reddened. Impulsively he turned on his heel. Later he would beashamed, since he understood the inspector thoroughly. But for themoment he surrendered himself to pride. The sound of the chair shovedback by the inspector was not unexpected, nor did he fail to catch thenote of apology, the appeal for terms in the gruff voice.
"Come back here. Where are you going?"
But it was another voice that swung him sharply.
"Jim! Don't lose your temper."
The inspector's fist scattered the papers on his desk top.
"Who's running this office?"
Garth scarcely heard. He strode to the woman. He snatched theintricately-patterned shawl from her head. The face beneath was old,stained, and wrinkled; but there was no disguising the dark, young eyeswhich smiled up at him.
"So that's why?" he gasped. "You've done it well, Nora. Now maybe I canknow something about it."
She laughed.
"Not if you resign. So much dignity!"
He laughed back.
"Nor if I'm fired."
The inspector grinned.
"I'm glad you let me in this on some basis."
The disclosure of the girl's personality had scattered Garth's revolt,and her eyes, now that they were no longer concealed, seemed to haverebuked the inspector to a milder humour.
"Understand," he said, "Nora doesn't tell me any too much how she'sworking, and she's been at this off and on for a long time. It's onlythe last two weeks that it's gotten serious. She had to see me to-day.That's why I'm on my ear about the Chinaman. He might have saved her agood deal. You see, she's working on that case."
Garth's heart sank.
"Dope!" he cried. "It isn't safe. I tell you she's fighting desperatepeople, inspector. Look at that Chinaman, whether he's mixed up with thetraffic or not, if a brute like him suspected her!"
The inspector returned to his chair. He waved his hands helplessly.
"Talk to Nora. I've told her all that. Once or twice I've wanted her touse her brain in cases where there wasn't any risk. Nothing doing. Whenthis rotten business came up she would go into it on her own hook. Iguess that's because she knows Manford and his high-brow, meddlingsociety have got the district attorney behind them, and they've put itup to me hard."
Nora shook her head, smiling a trifle wistfully.
"No, father, I did it to save souls and bodies. You see, Jim, they canhandle the little fellows under the new laws, but everybody knowsthere's this one place up-town, marvelously hidden and guarded--adistributing center, the heart of the whole surviving drug traffic.When I found out from father that everybody else had failed I just hadto try. My conscience kept at me. Success would turn so much misery intohappiness, so much sickness into health, so much crime into usefulness.And to-night, I believe, if we're lucky--Jim! I want you to be there."
"She thinks she's spotted the house," the inspector said softly. "That'swhat she had to see me about. She wants a raid arranged for to-night."
Garth's voice was anxious.
"How are you working, Nora? I don't like it. I wish you were out of it."
But Nora would tell him nothing, and he realized instinctively that inher crusade she had taken desperate chances and would face more,probably the worst, to-night.
"You must tell us," she said, "how you found the Chinaman. I've no doubthe was one of them. In itself his death was a confession--a pitifullysilent one."
Garth told his story of the man in the limousine, of the trailingOriental, of what he had learned at the Bureau of Licenses. Nora offeredno interpretation, but she smiled sympathetically at the inspector'srage. He saw in the affair more than Garth. To him it meant anunderhanded attempt on the part of the society to trap a materialwitness.
"They put it up to me," he grumbled, "then they want to put it over me.Manford gets a line of his own and keeps it to himself. Out for a littleglory and advertising! What happens every time I work with thesesilk-stockinged, fur-coated societies that think they know more aboutvice than the police. And to think, Garth, you snitched him away fromthem, then let him croak!"
Nora arose.
"No use crying over spilt milk, father."
She prepared to leave. Garth followed her to the hallway. He urged herto let him share her plans, to give him a more pronounced part in therisks. She shook her head.
"It's best to let me work this alone until the last minute, Jim."
His one grain of comfort was her insistence that he should be in the vanof the raiding party. So he watched her leave, her grace and beautytransformed by an inspired ingenuity into the bent lines and the haggarddistortion of a crone.
The day lingered interminably. Whatever Nora had told her father heguarded with an unqualified stubbornness. Aside from the fact that hewas to join the inspector in an up-town precinct house at ten o'clock,Garth walked into the affair wholly ignorant of plans or probabilities.
When finally the hour struck and he kept the appointment, he foundManford, in evening clothes, leaning against the desk while he testedthe inspector's temper with a smiling face and an insinuatingconversation.
Garth had never before seen this amateur in social justice. His firstglance furnished him a share in the inspector's resentment, for clearlyManford's illusions as to his importance were all of a happy character.His moustache, arranged with a studied precision, his ruddy complexion,his eyes, noticeably sarcastic, testified to measureless pride in asuccess which, Garth knew, had arisen almost of its own power from hisinheritance. It was not to be doubted
that his selection as its head hadgiven the society in his eyes a majestic and peculiar value.
The fact that the inspector failed to counter impressed Garth. Probablyit would be a sufficient revenge for him to accomplish the raid andsmash the gang with Manford as a witness, yet without his activeassistance.
A number of detectives and some men in uniform were grouped about thetwo. The inspector's commands were brief and delivered with an excitedanticipation which he could not conceal. At last he announced the numberof the house. It was in the centre of the block east of that in whichGarth had captured the Chinaman. Some of the men were to reach the backyard. Others were to guard the roof. The remainder would form theattacking party at the front.
"When these people find they can't get through," the inspector warned,"it's a good bet they'll show fight. So look out for yourselves, andimpress on them that your guns aren't watch charms."
Garth, Manford, and the inspector led the way. Garth's misgivings werefar more profound than if the chief risk had been his own. Where wasNora now? What would such conscienceless men do to her if they found atthe last moment she was responsible for their hopeless predicament?
They walked slowly to give the others time to reach their posts. At lastthe inspector glanced at his watch, snapped it shut, and quickened hispace.
"Come on, boys," he muttered. "The season's open."
The house presented an uncommunicative front. They climbed the steps. Nolights showed in the hall. The windows appeared to be shuttered. Theinspector pulled the old-fashioned bell handle. After an undisturbedwait he tried again.
"Guess we haven't got the combination, Chief," Garth whispered.
"No time for experiments," the inspector said. He put his shoulder tothe door.
"Give a hand here, boys. Bring that ax."
The lock snapped under their assault. They stumbled through into thevestibule. Garth choked. He was aware of fine particles of dust in hisnose and his throat. The inspector had been similarly affected.
"Filthy lot!" he sneered. "One more door."
They attacked the inner door. They burst through into a black hallway.The dust rose in clouds. The inspector snapped his flashlight and fellback with an exclamation, disappointed and surprised.
The light shone on bare floors and walls. Its power was radicallydiminished by the long accumulated dust their entrance had disturbed. Asfar as the first floor was concerned they stood in an empty house.
Manford sneered.
"A fine plan of yours, inspector!"
The inspector glared his dislike.
"I'm beginning to think you were jealous a minute ago, young man."
"Then you've quite disarmed my unworthy emotion," Manford laughed.
Garth had read more than dislike in the inspector's manner. It hadveiled, he was sure, a positive, an increasing fear; and the scorn ofhis voice had not thoroughly cloaked its uncertainty.
"Get up stairs," he snarled to his men. "Scour every inch of thisplace."
He turned back to Manford.
"I'll swear they were here this afternoon. This house was used as a diveno later than this afternoon."
Manford chuckled, indicating the dust which still whirled in the rays ofthe flash light.
The plain-clothes men returned almost at once. There was not a person inthe house--not a piece of furniture. The grime on the walls, the thickdust testified to its long disuse.
Manford's superior wisdom appeared justified. The intolerance of aposition and a success, both inherited, shone in his eyes, expresseditself in his voice. He drew his coat closer about him. He touched hishat. It assumed a jauntier air.
"Good night, inspector," he drawled. "I cut the opera to take in thisexample of police efficiency. I hope my society, on its own initiative,will be able to make more progress with the case. Maybe I'll find someamusement chatting with the lieutenant at the station house. At least Ican learn from the police what sins to omit."
The inspector strangely, did not answer. Manford lighted a cigarette,grinning, and strolled down the steps.
Garth marvelled at the inspector's lack of belligerency. He looked athim more closely. The big man's jaw had fallen. He stared withoutpurpose at the blank walls. The picture made Garth afraid. He graspedthe inspector's arm. He drew him to one side.
"How were you so sure?" he asked under his breath. "Because Nora gaveyou this number?"
The inspector shook his head. His great shoulders trembled.
"No. She had no number to give me. But this afternoon I saw her enterthis house. I watched the door close behind her, and, Garth--she hasnever come out."
* * * * * *
Garth with frantic haste explored the place himself from roof to cellar.There was no question. It had remained uninhabited for many months,perhaps years. Yet Nora had told her father that, while its location hadbeen kept from her, she had arranged a certain entry to the evil housethat afternoon. She had told him to follow her. He had seen the doorclose behind her.
Garth scarcely dared open his mind to full comprehension. If Nora hadbeen directed to this deserted building and admitted, it was clear thather connection with the police had been discovered. It was logicallycertain that she had walked into an elaborately plotted ambush.
He hurried to the sidewalk where he found the inspector braced heavilyagainst the rail.
"What can I do, Garth?" the big man asked hoarsely.
What to do, indeed! Garth thrust his hands in his pockets. He staredhelplessly up the street. His glance rested on the corner house of thenext block where last night the man in the fur coat had left the firstcoin. Suddenly his breath sharpened. His mind, planning blindly, paused,drew back, dared again to face the single chance that had risen from theshadows of the corner house.
He wet his lips. He touched the inspector's shoulder. He understood thaton a bare possibility he would place his entire career in the scales.Since, however, it balanced Nora's rescue from such unspeakable hands,he did not hesitate.
"Chief," he whispered, "take your men back to the station house and keepthem ready. I'll telephone you there in a few minutes, fifteen or twentyat the outside."
"What are you going to do, Garth?"
"Take one chance to get Nora back," he answered quickly, "probably saygood-bye to New York. It was something I thought of last night. Itseemed common sense to forget it this morning. Now I'm going to makesure. No time to talk."