XXVII
Clancy felt no impulse to slam the door in Spofford's face. Instead, sheopened it wider.
"Come in," she said.
He stepped across the threshold. Just beyond, he paused uncertainly. Andnow his lips, which had been sullen, Clancy thought, shaped themselvesinto a smile that was deprecatory, apologetic.
"I hope I ain't disturbin' you, Miss Deane," he said.
Clancy stared at him. She had never felt so completely in command of asituation.
"That depends," she said curtly. "If you are to annoy me further----"
Spofford's grin was extremely conciliating.
"Aw, don't hit a man when he's down, Miss Deane. Every one has to be asucker once in a while. It ain't every guy that's willin' to admit it,apologize, and ask for a new deal. Now, if I go that far, don't youthink you ought to come a little way and meet me?"
Clancy's eyes widened.
"Suppose," she said, "we sit down."
"Thank you, Miss Deane." Spofford's tone was as properly humble asClancy could possibly have wished. "A nice little friendly talk, metryin' to show you I'm a regular guy, and you, maybe, bein, a littlehelpful. That's it--helpful."
He followed her as she led the way into the drawing-room and he seatedhimself carefully upon the edge of a chair whose slim legs justified hiscaution.
Clancy sat down opposite him. She leaned the poker against the wall.Spofford laughed.
"I'll just bet you'd 'a' beaned me one with that as soon as not, eh,Miss Deane?"
Clancy suddenly grew cautious. Perhaps this was an attempt to make heradmit that she would not shrink from violence. Detectives were uncannycreatures.
"I should hate to do anything like that," she said.
Spofford guffawed heartily.
"I'd sure hate to have you, Miss Deane. But you don't need to be afraidof me."
"I'm not," said Clancy.
Spofford's nod was the acme of appreciation of a remark that held noparticular humor, so far as Clancy could see. He slipped a triflefurther back in the chair. He crossed his legs, assisting one fat kneewith his hands. He leaned back. From his upper waistcoat pocket he tooka cigar.
"You wouldn't mind, would you, Miss Deane? I can talk easier."
The downward and inward jerk of Clancy's chin gave him consent. From hislower waistcoat pocket, attached to the same heavy chain that Clancyassumed secured his watch, Spofford produced a cigar-clipper.Deliberately he clipped the end from the cigar, lighted it, tilted itupward from one corner of his mouth, and leaned toward Clancy.
"Miss Deane, you gotta right to point the door to me; I know it.But--you'd like to know who killed this Beiner guy, wouldn't you? Bein'sort of mixed up in it--bein' involved, so to speak----" His voice diedaway questioningly.
Despite herself, Clancy sighed with relief. Spofford was really the onlyman she had to fear. And if he believed in her innocence----
"How do you know I didn't do it?" she demanded.
"Well, it's this way, Miss Deane: When you come into Mr. Vandervent'soffice and fainted away after announcin' yourself as Florine Ladue, Icouldn't quite swallow what you said about playin' a joke. You don'tlook like the sort of lady that would play that kind of a joke. Anyway,I have a hunch, and I play it. I get this elevator-man from theHeberworth Building to come down to your living-place----"
"How did you know where I lived?" demanded Clancy.
Spofford grinned.
"Same way I found out that you were down here to-day, Miss Deane. I hada guy follow you. You can't blame me, now, can you?" he askedapologetically.
Clancy hid a grin at her own magnanimous wave of her hand.
"Well, this elevator-man tells me that he took you up to the fourthfloor of the Heberworth Building on Tuesday afternoon. I think I havesomething. But, then, Judge Walbrough butts in. Well, I begin to figurethat I'm _goin'_ a trifle fast. Judge Walbrough ain't the sort of man tomonkey with the law. And nobody ain't goin' to fool him, either. So, ifWalbrough strings along with you, maybe I'm a sucker to think you gotanything to do with this Beiner affair.
"And when the guy I have watching the house tells me that you've gone upto Walbrough's, and when I learn that Mr. Vandervent is down atWalbrough's house--well, I do some more figurin'. There's lots ofinfluence in this town; but a pull that will make a man like Walbroughand a man like Vandervent hide a murderess--there ain't that pull here.'Course, I figure that Walbrough is sendin' for Vandervent to help youout, not to pinch you.
"Anyway, what I'm guessin' is that maybe I'd better examine my take-offbefore I do too much leapin'. And my take-off is that the elevator-mansays he saw you in the Heberworth Building. That ain't a hangin' matter,exactly, I tells myself. Suppose I get a little more.
"What sort of a lady is this Florine Ladue, I asks myself. An actress,or somebody that wants to be an actress; well, where would she belivin'? Somewhere in the Tenderloin, most likely. So, last evenin', Iget busy. And I find at the Napoli that Miss Florine Ladue registeredthere last Monday and beat it away after breakfast Wednesday mornin'.And that's proof to me that Florine Ladue didn't do the killing.
"Now, I'm pretty sure that you're Florine Ladue all right. Madame Napolidescribed you pretty thoroughly. Even told me that you was readin' apaper, at breakfast, what paper it was, how you got a telegram supposedto be from your mother that called you away. Now, I figure it out tomyself: If Miss Ladue's mother wired her, and the wire made Miss Laduepack her stuff and beat it, why didn't she go home? Because the wire's afake, most likely. Then why, the next question is, did Miss Ladue putover that fake? The answer's easy. Because she'd just read in themornin' paper about Beiner's murder. She's read about a young womanclimbin' down the fire-escape, thinks she'll be pinched as that youngwoman, and--beats it. Pretty good?"
Clancy nodded. She looked at the man with narrowed eyes.
"Still," she said, "I don't understand why you're sure that Miss Laduedidn't kill him."
Spofford's smile was complacent.
"I'll tell you why, Miss Deane. This Ladue lady is no fool. The way shebeat it from the Napoli proves that she was clever. But a clever woman,if she'd murdered Beiner, would have beat it Tuesday afternoon! MissDeane, if you'd left the Napoli on Tuesday, I'd stake my life that youkilled Beiner. No woman, leastwise a young girl like you, would have hadthe nerve to sit tight like you did on Tuesday night. I may be allwrong, but you gotta show me if I am," he went on emphatically. "Supposeyou had killed Beiner, but didn't know that any one had seen you on thefire-escape! Even then, you'd have moved away from the Napoli. I tellyou I been twenty-seven years on the force. I know what regularcriminals do, and amachures, too. And even if you'd killed Beiner, I'dput you in the amachure class, Miss Deane."
"Let's go a little farther," suggested Clancy. "Why did I announcemyself to Mr. Vandervent as Florine Ladue and then deny it?"
"You was scared," said Spofford. "Then, after you'd sent in that name,you read a paper sayin' Fanchon DeLisle was dead. You knew no one couldidentify you as Florine. You see, I picked up the paper on the benchwhere you'd been sittin'."
"Mr. Spofford," said Clancy slowly, "I think that you are a very abledetective."
"'Able?'" Spofford grinned ingenuously. "I'm a _great_ detective, MissDeane. I got ideas, I have. Now, listen: I've put my cards on the table,I'm goin' to tell the chief that I've been barkin' up the wrong tree.Now, you be helpful."
"Just how?" Clancy inquired.
"Tell me all that happened that afternoon in Beiner's office," saidSpofford. "You see, I _got_ to land the guy that killed Beiner. It'llmake me. Miss Deane, I want an agency of my own. I want some jack. If Iland this guy, I can get clients enough to make my fortune in ten years.Will you come through?"
Clancy "came through." Calmly, conscious of the flattering attention ofSpofford, she told of her adventures in Beiner's office; and when he putit in a pertinent question, she hesitated only momentarily beforetelling him of the part that Ike Weber and Fay Marston had played in herbrief career in New Yor
k.
Spofford stared at her a full minute after she had finished. She broughther story down to her presence in the Carey house and the reasonthereof. Then he puffed at his cigar.
"Be helpful, Miss Deane, be helpful y' know; somebody else is liable totumble onto what I tumbled to; he's liable to have his own suspicions.'S long as you live, you'll have a queer feelin' every time you spot abull unless the _guy that killed Beiner is caught_. Finish your spiel,eh?" He raised his pudgy hand quickly. "Now, wait a minute. I wouldn'tfor the world have you say anything that you'd have to take back aminute later. What's the use of stallin'? Tell me, what did Garland sayto you?"
"'Garland?'" Clancy echoed the name.
"Sure, the elevator-man from Beiner's building. Listen, Miss Deane: Iget the tip from one of the boys that you've left this Miss Henderson'splace and come down here. I beat it down to have a little talk with you,same as we been havin'. And whiles I'm hangin' around, out comesGarland. Why'd you send for him?"
"I didn't," said Clancy.
Spofford shot a glance at her.
"You didn't?" His lips pursed over the end of his cigar. "Then who didsend for him? Say, isn't this the Carey house? Mrs. Sophie Carey, theartist? Wife of Don Carey? Wasn't it them that just left the house?"
"Yes," said Clancy.
"Well, I'm a boob. Don Carey, eh? And him bein' the gossip of TimesSquare because of the agency he run. Hm; that _might_ be it."
"What might be it?" asked Clancy.
"A li'l bit of jack to Garland for keepin' his face closed about whatwent on in Carey's fake office," explained Spofford. "Still---- I dunno.Say, look here, Miss Deane: Loosen up, won'tcha? I been a square guywith you. I come right down and put my cards on the table. I admit I gotmy reasons; I don't want a bad stand-in with Mr. Vandervent. But still Icould 'a' been nasty, and I ain't tried to. Are you tellin' me all youknow? Y' know, coppin' off the murderer would put--put a lot of penniesin my pocket."
For a moment, Clancy hesitated. Then she seemed to see Sophie Carey'spleading face. Her smile was apparently genuinely bewildered as shereplied,
"Why, I'd like to help you, Mr. Spofford, but I really don't know anymore than I've told you."
It was another falsehood. It was the sort of falsehood that mightinterfere with the execution of justice, and so be frowned upon by goodcitizens. But it is hard to believe that the recording angel frowned.