CHAPTER II--THE MISSING BAUBLE
Just then a youngish man with a slouching gait and a dead cigar betweenhis teeth pushed through the little knot of spectators at the entranceand leveled a mildly inquisitive glance at Pinto and the housekeeper.
The patrolman, after introducing the new arrival as Lieutenant Culligoreof the detective bureau, told briefly what he had discovered.
Culligore doffed his dripping raincoat and banged his soggy slouch hatagainst the counter. His dull face and sluggish manners gave theimpression that he was never quite awake, but now and then a furtivelittle gleam in his cinnamon-colored eyes betrayed a saving sense ofhumor. He seemed unimpressed until Pinto reached that point in his storywhere the dying man had told the name of his assailant. Then Culligorecurled up his lip against the tip of his nose, as was his habit wheninterested in something, and motioned the patrolman to follow him intothe inner room.
There was an indefinable air about the chamber that vaguely suggestedthe abode of one whose life is hidden from the world. The ragged carpetand the ancient wall paper were of neutral tones, and the atmosphere wasstale and oppressive, as if seldom freshened by sun or wind. LieutenantCulligore's drowsily blinking eyes traveled over the scene, yet heappeared to see nothing. The safe in a corner seemed rather too largefor the modest requirements of a tobacconist. Near by stood anink-stained writing desk and a chair. The clothing on the narrow ironcot looked as though the occupant, suddenly disturbed in his sleep, hadsprung from it in a hurry.
In the center of the room lay a curiously twisted figure, garbed inpajamas of pink flannel. Over the heart was a dull stain, and the rightarm lay across the chest in a manner hinting that the dead man had usedhis last ounce of strength to ward off a blow. One of the legs was drawnup almost to the abdomen, and the eyes were fixed on the ceiling in aglassy stare.
"Well, Pinto?" Culligore looked as though he expected the patrolman todo the necessary thinking.
"The corpse told me the Gray Phantom did it," said Pinto in a tone offinality. "Don't you think we'd better start a general alarm, sir?"
"Corpses are sometimes mistaken, Pinto." The lieutenant fumbled for amatch and slowly kindled his cigar. "I'll bet a pair of pink socks thatthe Phantom had nothing to do with this. The Phantom always foughtclean. I'd hate like blue blazes to think that he pulled off this job."
Pinto scowled a little, as if he couldn't quite understand why Culligoreshould reject an easy solution of the mystery when it came to himready-made.
"By the way," and Culligore fixed an indolent eye on the electricfixture above the desk, "was the light on or off when you broke in?"
"It was off, sir. I turned it on myself."
Culligore thought for a moment. "Well, that doesn't mean much. Themurderer might have switched it off before he made his get-away, or theroom might have been dark all the time. I'd give a good smoke to knowwhether the murder was done in the light or the dark."
Pinto's eyes widened inquiringly.
"You see, Pinto, if the light was on we can take it for granted Gage sawthe murderer's face. If the room was dark, then he was just guessingwhen he told you it was the Phantom. It would have been a natural guess,too, for he would be very apt to suppose that the murderer was the manwho had sent him the threatening letter. Since we can't know whetherGage was stabbed in the light or the dark, we'd better forget what hetold you and take a fresh start." His eyes flitted about the room, and aflicker of interest appeared in their depths. "How do you suppose themurderer got out, Pinto?"
The patrolman looked significantly at the single window in the room.Culligore took a spiral tape measure from the little black box he alwayscarried when at work on a homicide case and measured the width of thenarrow sash.
"Too small," he declared. "You'd have to yank in your belt severalnotches before you could crawl through a window of this size, Pinto.Anyhow, it's latched from the inside."
A look of perplexity in his reddish face, Pinto turned to the door. Helooked a bit dazed as he noticed the damage he had wrought in forcingit. One of the panels was cracked in the center, and the slot in whichthe bolt had rested had been torn out of the frame.
"You see, Pinto." There was a grin on Culligore's lips. "The murderercouldn't have got out of the window, because it's much too small, and hecouldn't have walked out through the door, because it was bolted fromthe inside. There's no transom, so he could not have adjusted the boltfrom the other side. Nobody has yet figured out a way of passing througha door or window and leaving it bolted on the inside."
Pinto stared at the door, at the window, and finally at Culligore. Theproblem seemed beyond him. Then he took his baton and, tapping as hewent, explored every square foot of floor and walls, but no hollowsounds betrayed the presence of a hidden opening. He shook his head in aflabbergasted way.
"It's possible, of course," suggested the lieutenant, "that the murdererwas still in the room when you broke in. He might have made his get-awayin the dark while you were hunting for the light switch."
"The housekeeper would have seen him," Pinto pointed out. "She wasstanding just outside. And there was a crowd at the entrance. Say," anda startled look crossed his face, "do you suppose Gage killed himself?"
"That would be an easy solution, all right. But, if he did, what was hisidea in telling you that the Phantom had done it? And I don't see anyknife around. Gage wouldn't have had the strength to pull it out of thewound, and, even if he had, how did he dispose of it? No, Pinto, Gagewas murdered, and--hang it all!--it's beginning to look as though thePhantom did it."
"But you just said----"
"All I'm saying now is that it's beginning to look as if the Phantom hadhad a hand in it. Things aren't always what they seem, you know. I'm nottaking much stock in what Gage told you just before he died. There areother reasons. One of them is the size of that window. Another is thefact that the door was bolted on the inside. Together they show that theman who committed this murder accomplished something of a miracle ingetting out of the room. The Phantom is the only man I know who can dothat sort of thing."
He grinned sheepishly, as if conscious of having said something thatsounded extravagant.
"Stunts like that are the Phantom's long suit," he went on. "He likes tothrow dust in the eyes of the police and keep everybody guessing. But hewas always a gentlemanly rascal, and it takes something besides a bolteddoor and a window latched on the inside to make me believe he has gottendown to dirty work. Wish the medical examiner would hurry up."
He took a cover from the cot and threw it over the upper part of thebody. A chance glance toward the door made him pause. Just across thethreshold, with hands clasped across her breast and eyes fixed rigidlyon the lifeless heap on the floor, stood the housekeeper. She awoke witha start from her reverie as she felt the lieutenant's steady gaze on herface, and she shrank back a step. With a puckering of the brows,Culligore turned away. His eyes fell on the safe.
A pull at the knob told him it was locked. He took a magnifying lensfrom his kit and carefully examined the surface. Then, with a shake ofthe head signifying he had found no finger prints, he crooked his indexfinger at the housekeeper. She advanced reluctantly, and Culligorestudied her with a sidelong glance.
"You needn't talk unless you want to," he said gently. "The departmentisn't offering you any immunity. We've known for some time that Gage wasrunning a fence, though we never got the goods on him."
The woman, standing in a crouching attitude and studiously avoidingCulligore's gaze, swept a tress of moist gray hair from her forehead.
"We've also suspected that you have been in cahoots with him," continuedthe lieutenant in casual tones. "Oh, don't get scared. We won't go intothat just now. All I want is that we understand each other."
The woman raised her head and looked straight at Officer Pinto, andthere was a hint of dread in her eyes as their glances met. A puzzledfrown crossed Culligore's face as he noticed the strange exchange ofglances; then he pointed to the safe.
"Know how t
o open it?"
The housekeeper shook her head. "Mr. Gage kept only cheap junk in it,anyhow. All he used it for was a blind."
"A blind?"
"He had to keep a lot of valuables in the house all the time, and he wasalways afraid of burglars. He kept a lot of phony stuff in the safe,thinking if burglars found it they might be fooled and not look anyfurther."
"Ah! Not a bad idea. Where did he keep the real stuff?"
The woman hesitated for a moment; then, with a quick gesture, shepointed to the old writing desk.
"Gage was a shrewd one," observed the lieutenant. "With a safe in theroom, nobody would think of looking for valuables in a broken-down desk.Now," drawing a little closer to the woman and trying to catch hershifty eyes, "I wish you would tell us who killed him. I think youknow."
A tremor passed over the woman's ashen face, and she fixed Pinto with alook that caused the lieutenant to lift his brows in perplexity.Finally, she pointed a finger at the patrolman.
"You heard what he said, didn't you? Mr. Gage told him the Gray Phantomdid it. Isn't that enough?"
Culligore regarded her narrowly, as if sensing an attempt at evasion inwhat she had just said. Then he nodded and seemed to be searching hismemory.
"Let me see--Gage and the Phantom had some kind of row a few yearsback?"
The housekeeper's "Yes" was scarcely audible.
"What was it about?"
Her lips curled in scorn. "That's what I could never understand. Theywere quarreling like two overgrown boys over a piece of green rock.Imitation jade was what Mr. Gage called it. I never got the storystraight, but it seems the Phantom had been carrying it around as a kindof keepsake for years. He lost it finally, and somehow it got into Mr.Gage's hands. The Phantom wanted it back, but Mr. Gage was just stubbornenough to hang on to it. They had an awful rumpus, and I think thePhantom threatened to get Mr. Gage some day."
"All that fuss about a piece of phony jade? The Phantom must have hadsome particular reason for wanting it back. What was it shaped like?"
"It was a funny kind of cross, with eight tips to it."
"A Maltese cross, maybe." Lieutenant Culligore whistled softly. "ThePhantom's a queer cuss. Likely as not he thought more of that piece ofimitation jade than most people would of a thousand dollars. What Idon't see is why Gage wouldn't give it up. Unless," he added with ashrewd grin, "he knew how badly the Phantom wanted it and hoped to makehim cough up some real dough for it. Wasn't that it?"
A shrug was the housekeeper's only response.
"And the Phantom, of course, balked at the idea of paying good money forhis own property. But it seems Gage would have given it up when he sawthat it was putting his life in danger. I suppose, though, he thoughtthe Phantom was only bluffing. He didn't believe anybody would commit amurder over a thing that could be bought for a few cents."
Again the housekeeper shot Pinto a queer glance. "If you don't want meany more, I think I'll----"
"Just a moment," interrupted Culligore. "I want you to show me theletter Gage got yesterday."
With a sullen gesture she stepped to the desk, fumbled for a few momentsamong the drawers, then drew forth a letter and handed it to thelieutenant. Culligore examined the envelope and the superscription underthe light, then pulled out the enclosure.
"'The Gray Phantom neither forgives nor forgets,'" he read aloud. "Shortand to the point. Now let's have a look at the Maltese cross. Butwait--here's the medical examiner. You're late, doc."
"Car broke down." The examiner, a thickset, bearded, crisp-manneredindividual, put a few questions to Culligore and Pinto, then uncoveredthe body, explored the region of the wound with an expert touch, andfinally jotted down a few notes in a red-covered book. As he rose fromhis kneeling position, the lieutenant gave him a signal out of thecorner of his eye, and the two men left the room together.
"Just one question, doc." Culligore spoke in low tones, as if anxiousthat Pinto and the housekeeper should not hear. "About that wound. Howlong did Gage live after he was stabbed?"
"Not very long."
"Long enough to tell Pinto the name of the man who stabbed him?"
The examiner looked startled. "Yes, in all probability. Say, you don'tsuspect that cop in there of----"
"Not after what you've told me." Culligore wheeled on his heels andre-entered the inner room. His upper lip brushed the tip of his nose,signifying he had learned something interesting. Pinto was replacing thecover over the body, while the housekeeper, standing a few paces away,was regarding him with a fixed, inscrutable look.
"Now let's see the Maltese cross," directed the lieutenant.
The woman jerked herself up. Her eyes held a defiant gleam, but it diedaway quickly. With evident reluctance she approached the desk andpointed.
"There's a hidden drawer back there in the corner," she announced. "Idon't know how to open it. You'll have to find that out for yourself."
Culligore, after looking in vain for a concealed spring, took a smalltool from his kit. To locate the drawer without the woman's help wouldhave been a difficult task, for it was ingeniously hidden in anapparently solid portion of the desk. With a few deft twists and jerkshe forced it open and poured out the contents, consisting of a greatnumber of small objects wrapped in tissue paper. Each of the little wadscontained a diamond. Unwrapping one after another, Culligore gatheredthem in a glittering heap on the desk. The stones varied in size andbrilliancy. Occasionally he raised one of them to the light andinspected it keenly, satisfying himself of its genuineness.
"Some eye-teasers!" he muttered. "But where's the Maltese cross?"
The housekeeper's face went blank. She stared at the diamonds, then atthe empty drawer.
"It was there day before yesterday," she declared. "Mr. Gage showed itto me."
There was an odd tension in the lieutenant's manner. "Did the Phantomknow about the secret drawer and how to open it?"
The woman, one hand clutching the edge of the desk, seemed to ponder. "Idon't know. He might have. The Phantom called on Mr. Gage several timesafter they started quarreling. But----"
"Well, it doesn't matter." There was a strain of suppresseddisappointment in Culligore's tones, and his face hinted that anillusion was slipping away from him. "It looks as though the thing wassettled. The Gray Phantom is the only man I know who would pass up somefifty thousand dollars' worth of diamonds after taking the trouble tosteal a gewgaw worth about two bits."
With dragging gait he left the room, stepped behind the counter outside,and spoke into the telephone. In a few moments now the alarm would goout and a thousand eyes would be searching for the Gray Phantom.Culligore, tarrying for a little after he had hung up the receiver,looked as though he were in a mood to quarrel with his duty and with thefacts staring him in the face. Then he shrugged, as if to banish regretsof which he was half ashamed, and his face bore a look of doggeddetermination when he stepped back into the bedroom.
"We'll get him," he announced with grim assurance. "Inside fifteenminutes there'll be a net thrown around this old town so tight a mousecouldn't wriggle through."
He picked up his hat and kit, and just then his eyes fell on thehousekeeper's face. In vain he exercised his wits to interpret the slygaze with which she was fixing Patrolman Pinto.
Did it mean fear, suspicion, horror, hate, or all four?