CHAPTER XVII
THE NEWSPAPER FAKE
Within a few minutes we were sauntering with enforced leisure alongNinth Street, in a rather sordid part, inhabited largely, I made out,by a slightly better class of foreigners than some other sections ofthe West Side.
As we walked along, I felt Garrick tugging at my arm.
"Slow up a bit," he whispered under his breath. "There's the housewhich was mentioned in the maid's note."
It was an old three-story brownstone building with an entrance two orthree steps up from the sidewalk level. Once, no doubt, it had housedpeople of some means, but the change in the character of theneighbourhood with shifting population had evidently brought it to thelow estate where it now sheltered one family on each floor, if notmore. At least that was the general impression one got from a glance atthe cheapened air of the block.
Garrick passed the house so as not to attract any attention, and alittle further on paused before an apartment house, not of the modernelevator construction, but still of quiet and decent appearance. Atleast there were no children spilling out from its steps into thestreet, in imminent danger of their young lives from every passingautomobile, as there were in the tenements of the block below.
He entered the front door which happened to be unlatched and we had notrouble in mounting the stairs to the roof.
What he intended doing I had no idea yet, but he went ahead withassurance and I followed, equally confident, for he must have hadadventures something like this before. On the roof, a clothesline,which he commandeered and tied about a chimney, served to let him downthe few feet from the higher apartment roof to that of the dwellinghouse next to it, one of the row in which number 99 was situated.
Quickly he tiptoed over to the chimney of the brownstone house a fewdoors down and, as he did so, I saw him take from his pocket the cedarbox. A string tied to a weight told him which of the flues reached downto the room on the first floor, back.
That determined, he let the little cedar box fastened to an entwinedpair of wires down the flue. He then ran the wires back across the roofto the apartment, up, and into a little storm shed at the top of thelast flight of stairs which led from the upper hall to the roof.
"There is nothing more that we can do here just yet," he remarked afterhe had hauled himself back to me on the higher roof. "We are lucky notto have been disturbed, but if we stay here we are likely to beobserved."
Cautiously we retraced our steps and were again on the street withouthaving alarmed any of the tenants of the flat through which we hadgained access to the roofs.
It was now the forenoon and, although Garrick instituted a search inevery place that he could think of where Mrs. de Laacey and VioletWinslow might go, including the homes of those of their friends whosenames we could learn, it was without result. I don't think there can bemany searches more hopeless than to try to find someone in New Yorkwhen one has no idea where to look. Only chance could possibly havethrown them in our way and chance did not favour us.
There was nothing to do but wait for the time when Miss Winslow might,of her own accord, turn up to visit her former maid for whom sheapparently had a high regard.
Inquiries as to the antecedents of Lucille De Veau were decidedlyunsatisfactory, not that they gave her a bad character, but becausethere simply seemed to be nothing that we could find out. The maidseemed to be absolutely unknown. Her brother was a waiter, though wherehe worked we could not find out, for he seemed to be one of those whoare constantly shifting their positions.
Garrick had notified Dillon of what he had discovered, in a generalway, and had asked him to detail some men to conduct the searchsecretly for Miss Winslow and her aunt, but without any better resultsthan we had obtained. Apparently the department stores had swallowedthem up for the time being and we could only wait impatiently, trustingthat all would turn out right in the end. Still, I could not helphaving some forebodings in the matter.
It was in the middle of the afternoon that we had gone downtown toGarrick's office, after stopping to secure the letter from the safe inthe uptown hotel where it had been deposited for security during thenight and placing it in a safety deposit vault where Garrick kept someof his own valuables. Garrick had selected his office as a vantagepoint to which any news of Miss Winslow and her aunt might be sent bythose whom we had out searching. No word came, however, and the hoursof suspense seemed to drag interminably.
"You're pretty well acquainted on the STAR?" Garrick asked me at last,after we had been sitting in a sort of mournful silence wonderingwhether those on the other side might not be stealing a march on us.
"Why, yes, I know several people there," I replied. "Why do you ask?"
"I was just thinking of a possible plan of campaign that might bemapped out to bring these people from under cover," he remarkedthoughtfully. "Do you think you could carry part of it through?"
I said I would try and Garrick proceeded to unfold a scheme which hehad been revolving all day. It consisted of as ingenious a "plant" as Icould well imagine.
"You see," he outlined, "if you could go over to the Star office andget them to run off a few copies of the paper, after they are throughwith the regular editions, I believe we can get the Chief started andthen all we should have to do would be to follow him up--or someone whowould lead us to him."
The "plant," in short, consisted in writing a long and circumstantialstory of the discovery of new evidence against the ladies' poolroom,which so far had been scarcely mentioned in the case. As Garrick laidit out, the story was to tell of a young gambler who was said to be intouch with the district attorney, in preference to saying the police.
In fact, his idea was to write up the whole gambling situation as weknew it on lines that he suggested. Then a "fake" edition of the paperwas to be run off, bearing our story on the front page. Only a fewcopies were to be printed, and they were to be delivered to us. Thething had been done before by detectives, I knew, and in this caseWarrington was to foot the bill, which might prove to be considerable.
At least it offered me some outlet for my energies during the rest ofthe afternoon when the failure to receive any reports about the twowomen whom we were seeking began to wear on my nerves.
It took some time to arrange the thing with those in authority on theStar, but at last that was done and I hastened back to Garrick at hisoffice to tell him that all that remained to do was the actual writingof the story.
Garrick had just finished testing an arrangement in a large case,almost the size of a suitcase, and had stood it in a corner, ready tobe picked up and carried off the instant there was any need for it.There was still no word of Miss Winslow and Mrs. de Lancey and it beganto look as if we should not hear from them until Violet Winslow turnedup on her visit to her former maid.
Together we plunged into the preparation of the story, the writing ofwhich fell to me while Garrick now and then threw in a suggestion or aword of criticism to make it sound stronger for his purpose. Thus therest of the afternoon passed in getting the thing down "pat."
I flatter myself that it was not such a bad piece of work when we gotthrough with it. By dint of using such expressions as "It is said," "Itis rumoured," "The report about the Criminal Courts Building is," "Aninformant high in the police department," and crediting much to amythical "gambler who is operating quietly uptown," we managed to tellsome amazing facts.
The fake story began:
"Since the raid by the police on the luxurious gambling house inForty-eighth Street, a remarkable new phase of sporting life has beenunfolded to the District Attorney, who is quietly gathering evidenceagainst another place situated in the same district.
"A former gambler who frequented the raided place has put manyincriminating facts about the second place in the hands of theauthorities who are contemplating an exposure that will stir even NewYork, accustomed as it is to such startling revelations. It involvesone of the cleverest and most astute criminals who ever operated inthis city.
"This place,
which is under observation, is one which has broughttragedy to many. Young women attracted by the treacherous lure of thespinning roulette wheel or the fascination of the shuffle of cards havesquandered away their own and their husband's money with often tragicresults, and many of them have gone even further into the moralquagmire in the hope of earning enough money to pay their losses andkeep from their families the knowledge of their gambling.
"This situation, one of the high lights in the city of lights andshadows, has been evolved, according to the official informant, throughthe countless number of gambling resorts that have gained existence inthe most fashionable parts of the city.
"The record of crime of the clever and astute individual alreadymentioned is being minutely investigated, and, it is said, shows someof the most astounding facts. It runs even to murder, which wasaccomplished in getting rid of an informer recently in the pay of thepolice.
"Against those conducting the crusade every engine of the underworldhas been used. The fight has been carried on bitterly, and within lessthan twenty-four hours arrests are promised as a result of confessionsalready in the hands of the authorities and being secretly and widelyinvestigated by them before the final blow is delivered simultaneously,both in the city and in a town up-state where the criminal believeshimself unknown and secure."
There was more of the stuff, which I do not quote, describing thesituation in detail and in general terms which could all have only onemeaning to a person acquainted with the particular case with which wewere dealing. It threw a scare, in type, as hard as could be done. Ifancied that when it was read by the proper person he would be amazedthat so much had, apparently, become known to the newspapers, and wouldbegin to wonder how much more was known that was not printed.
"That ought to make someone sit up and take notice," remarked Garrickwith some satisfaction, as he corrected the typewritten copy late inthe afternoon. "The printing of that will take some time and I don'tsuppose we shall get copies until pretty late. You can take it over tothe Star, Tom, and complete the arrangements. I have a little more workto do before we go up there on Ninth Street. Suppose you meet me ateight in Washington Square, near the Arch?"