Death Points a Finger

  Chapter XIV

  Hite rose from his seat and laid down his pipe when Jimmy led thelittle man into the busy city room, a mark of respect Hite rarelyshowed any one. After greetings were exchanged, Hite led the wayinto the office of the managing editor, who had not yet arrived.Seeing the little scientist seated, Hite growled:

  "Well?"

  "Thank you for the opportunity to investigate this, Mr. Hite. Thisis one of the most interesting criminal inquiries I have everconducted."

  "Were you up to Pleasantville, Professor?"

  "Yes, we are coming from there now."

  "Did you find anything?"

  "Yes, I found this." He took from a folded slip of paper the bitof frayed thread he had found in the telephone box.

  Hite looked from the bit of thread to the fine features of theman; he looked at the two young men who grinned at him. He said:

  "All right, Professor, I'll bite. What is this?"

  "Would you say, Mr. Hite, that this bit of thread belongs inside aproperly constructed telephone box?"

  When Hite still looked at him in puzzled silence, ProfessorBrierly, with delicate precision, using a hook on a pen knife,picked the lock of the telephone box fastened to the managingeditor's desk.

  "See, Mr. Hite. This box, wires, binding posts, terminals, and soforth, is identical with the box that was blown from a wall in theFlynn home in Pleasantville. On the bottom of this box you willfind a number of holes; if you put your finger there you will feelthem. Now, Mr. Hite, if you will examine this box carefully, youwill find that there is no thread like this to be found. Indeed,you will not find any legitimate use for such a piece of thread inthe box. And remember that this box locks and opens with a keyowned by the man who installs the telephone. You noticed that Ihad to pick this lock. It looks like a screw head that opens witha screw driver, but it is not.

  "Now, Mr. Hite, suppose I wanted to blow you to kingdom come witha bomb and you lived in an isolated house situated like the lateMr. Flynn's. Here is the way I might do it. There are hundreds ofother safe ways but this is one of them.

  "I should enter the house in your absence. I should place my bomband run a fuse from the bomb to one of the holes in this telephonebox. I should tie the clapper of the bell down in the box with abit of weak thread, a bit of thread like this, Mr. Hite."

  He held up the bit of gray thread and continued:

  "I should predetermine precisely the strength of the thread withrelation to the resistance offered by the tied down bell clapper.I should know exactly how many times the operator would have toring your telephone before the thread broke, say fourteen times. Ishould watch you from a convenient patch of woods. When you camehome I would go to the nearest telephone and call your number. Atthe fourteenth ring, the clapper would break loose and strike anail that discharges a blank cartridge that I had fastened with asmall wooden block. The flare from the cartridge ignites the fuseI told you about and--"

  His open hands, palms upward, made an expressive gesture.

  Hite was staring at him in wide-eyed astonishment, his rugged jawsclenching his corn cob pipe until his muscles on the sides of hisjaw stood out in ridges. He took the pipe slowly from his mouth.

  "Say, Professor, ain't you coverin' a little too much territory.Isn't that rather a bit--"

  Professor Brierly exploded into wrath.

  "You newspaper men!" he almost spat the words out. "You print thewildest, most improbable tales, stories that have no basis in factor in logic. You print statements by charlatans, without takingthe trouble to verify them. And here, when I give you the resultof a simple scientific bit of reasoning, almost syllogistic in itsscientific simplicity you--"

  Hite ducked, from the storm. He sent a ferocious scowl in thedirection of the two young men who were grinning behind ProfessorBrierly's back. He held out a large gnarled hand placatingly:

  "Pardon me, Professor, but it does seem far--I mean--your logic isabsolutely amazing. We who know you believe it, of course, but--"

  "Oh," said the old man mollified. "You shall have proof of course.We found evidence that a person stood in sight of the house in apatch of woods. A short distance from that is a filling station,where there is a public telephone. I took the name," he handed thecity editor a slip of paper with the name of the filling station.

  "You have the means of finding such things out and verifying them.You have the exact time of the explosion. See if someone did notcall Flynn's home at the time of the explosion without having thecall completed."

  Hite punched a button on the desk. To the copy boy who popped hishead into the office, he roared:

  "Send in Mac, George and Barney!"

  Three young men came into the office, greeted Jimmy and waited.His words coming like the staccato roar of a machine gun, Hiteaddressed the three:

  "George, a telephone call was made from this station," handing himthe slip of paper, "find the number in the telephone book. Thecall was made last night at precisely the time that Flynn's housein Pleasantville was blown up. It might have been made from astation near there. The call was not completed, because there wasno answer. Operator was asked to ring a long time. Verify this.Don't take any hooey from the telephone company that it's againstthe rules. It's against the rules in this office for a reporter tocome back without what he was sent to get. Scram.

  "Mac, you heard what I said to George. Go to the filling station Itold him about. The bird who made the call hung around there along time, probably in a car. Mebbe somebody caught the number ofthe car. See if someone remembers this bird who made the call.Take a taxi and tell him to step on it. If any dumb cop stops you,tell him I'll have him broke if he won't let you go. Go on, getout, what the hell you waitin' for?

  "Barney, go up to Center Street and see the stuffed shirt in theCommissioner's office. If he ain't in he ought to be; a publicservant ought to be at his desk by this time. It's after eighto'clock. Lookit me. Get him out of bed if you have to and ask himhow long the public is going to be fed on hooey when there's suchan important murder case. Ask him what the hell are the policedoing on these murders besides making statements. Get going and ifyou don't bring in a story for the first edition I'll drop you outthe window."

  He turned to Professor Brierly:

  "Excuse me a little while, Professor, I've got to give out someassignments." He turned to Jimmy and growled:

  "Say, lissen, young feller, in the last wire you sent, youmisspelt a name. How many times have I got to tell you--"

  He stopped. For the first time that morning did he get a good lookat Jimmy's swollen, purple eye. He whistled. His face wrinkled inwhat passed with him for a smile. He murmured in reverent awe:

  "What a shiner, what a peach. Where did you get--"

  He opened the door into the noisy city room. His roar cut throughthe conglomerate clatter. The room hushed.

  "Hey, gang, come here quick. Lookit Jimmy. Ask him where he gotit. Bet he tells each of you a different lie." The doorway wasinstantly filled with grinning faces. The hubbub subsided after afew minutes and Hite shooed them out of the room. He turned toProfessor Brierly, his hand on the door knob.

  "Oh, by the way. I had somebody chased up to Pleasantville to seeabout the cops who wanted to arrest you. They were all gone. Thepilot up there says it was a peach of a scrap and he ought toknow; he's been in some himself. Rather lucky for you, you werenot alone, eh Professor? They didn't expect any one to be withyou."

  "It was not luck, Mr. Hite. John insisted on coming along with me.Anyone would think to hear him talk that I am unable to take careof myself, but perhaps it was fortunate after all that he and Halewere there. Don't laugh at Hale's eye; he got it in that fight."

  "Huh, huh, I see. Anything I can do for you, Professor, whilewe're waiting for a report?"

  "I should like to send some telegrams, Mr. Hite, please."

  "Why, sure, wires, phones, anything. Jimmy'l help you; he knowsthe ropes."

  The door closed behind him. Professor Brierly murmured:

&
nbsp; "What a perfectly astonishing person. He literally takes yourbreath away. Is that his manner all the time, Hale?"

  "No, not all the time, Professor. Usually he's worse."

  The two young men left him and for the next hour and a halfProfessor Brierly kept several copy boys and the telephoneoperator on the jump. He was not disturbed. The managing editorwas told who was in his office when he came in and he took a deskin the city room, where he transacted his routine morningbusiness.

  Professor Brierly was sitting at the desk mentally going over thetangled threads of the case. He was rejecting one by one the manyfanciful hypotheses that imaginative newspaper writers had wovenabout the case. With cold, precise logic, he was fastening link tolink in his strange chain of evidence. Such was his impersonalabsorption in the case that the attack on him with its possibleconsequences, was now forgotten.

  The telephone bell tinkled. Orders had been given the operator notto disturb Professor Brierly and to ring the phone in the managingeditor's office only if the call was for the old scientist. Hepicked up the instrument; this might be the answer he was awaitingto a telegram.

  He was hanging the instrument back in its pronged cradle with ashade of disappointment, when the door was thrown open. Hite camein.

  "Professor, they got the bird who bumped off Schurman. The D.A.was on the phone about it, up in that camp of his. He gave ordersthat you be permitted to cross-examine this bird. He told 'em tohold him for you."

  Professor Brierly scrambled to his feet.

  "Indeed, I shall be glad to see him. How interesting."

  He was taken to the office of the district attorney, where anassistant and a sergeant of police met him. Sergeant Conners, whohad met Professor Brierly on previous matters, said to thescientist.

  "We should 'a' had this bird sooner, but it seems he was sleepin'off a drunk somewhere and no one knew where he was. 'Fingy' Smithis his name, Professor. We got his record. His finger prints arethe ones we found on the file. And he is the bird who always eatsa lot whenever he does a job, specially eggs. How this bird canput away eggs is a wonder; he's a little feller, too." Themonologue was cut short by the entrance of the prisoner who waschained to a burly headquarters man, accompanied by anotherofficer in civil clothes.

  'Fingy' Smith was a small, dark man who greeted the assemblycheerfully. Professor Brierly looked at him curiously. The littlefinger on his left hand, was missing; it had been shot away in abrawl. The lobe of his left ear was also missing. Jimmy laterlearned that it had been chewed off in a rough and tumble fight ina Chinese joint on the Pacific coast.

  Sergeant Conners greeted him pleasantly, the assistant districtattorney, somberly. He did not hold with being on pleasant termswith criminals. Conners said:

  "'Fingy', this is Professor Brierly, he is gonna ask you somequestions."

  "How de do, Prof. I heard about ye. You got a reputash. Don't gettoo intimate with the dicks.

  His response to Heath's steady look was a cheerful smile.Professor Brierly asked:

  "Do you know what you were arrested for, Mr. Smith?"

  "Naw! Somebody must be makin' a holler about a crime wave.Whenever they do that the cops get busy and make a pinch. They gotit easy with a guy like me. I'll be frank with you, Prof, I got arecord. But what of it? I been runnin' straight, lately."

  Professor Brierly did not try to interrupt him. He was enormouslyinterested in this first-hand contact with a prominent member ofthe criminal classes. He said, gently:

  "I will tell you what you were arrested for, Smith. You arecharged with murdering August Schurman."

  Smith's mouth opened wide, as did his eyes. If this was acting itwas very well done. The look of surprise faded and the smile, alittle forced perhaps, was once more in evidence.

  "Don't give me a laugh, Professor. You got a reputation for bein'on the level. Don't let the police bull you into lettin' 'em frameme. Me commit murder? Ask the police and if they're honest,they'll tell you I never carried a rod or anything else with me.Ain't that so, Sarge?" he asked.

  The police officer merely stared at him, he did not answer.

  Professor Brierly was looking intently at the prisoner. He aroseand asked the prisoner to sit in a chair where he would face thelight that came in from a tall window. Here, Professor Brierlystepped close to him and, in the manner of a dentist, asked him toopen his mouth.

  Everybody, including the prisoner, looked at the old scientistwith surprise. 'Fingy' had recovered his composure by this time.He asked Professor Brierly:

  "What is it, Prof, is it me tonsils or me teeth? I had me tonsilsout and a tooth carpenter recently socked me a hell of a wad forfixin' up me grinders."

  When the old man did not respond to this humor, he said,resignedly:

  "Oh, all right, Prof, you're the doctor. I don't know what thehell this is about but--"

  He threw his head back and opened his mouth wide. ProfessorBrierly peered intently into the mouth of the prisoner. He steppedback and said to Conners and the assistant district attorney:

  "I am through with Mr. Smith; I have no further questions to ask.I should be glad, however, to stay here and--"

  Conners turned to the prisoner savagely. His apparent good humorwas gone. This was the kind of business he understood; he was athome cross-examining prisoners. He would show Professor Brierlyhow to make a crook wilt.

  "'Fingy,' where was you on the night of July third and earlymornin' July fourth?"

  The prisoner wrinkled his brow in thought. He had regained hiscomposure entirely, although he was not now in the jovial mood hepresented when he came in.

  "The night of July third? Lemme see." His brows drew together."Well, that night, I was givin' a little party to some friends inme apartment."

  "Who all was there, 'Fingy'?"

  The prisoner gave the names of four men and two women, Connersjotting down the names on a slip of paper.

  "That little job, o' yours four years ago in Rye, 'Fingy' youwasn't framed on that was you?"

  "Well, I guess they had the goods on me all right. But what ofthat? I done my bit, didn't I?"

  "I ain't talkin' about that, 'Fingy,' I jest wanted to get itstraight. You got in like the police said and you opened the safelike they said too, didn't you?"

  "Yeah, I guess I did."

  "And you ate a lotta food, didn't you, 'Fingy', some seven oreight eggs on that job?"

  "Yeah, I'm always hungry on--I mean for a little guy, I can eat anawful lot and I sure do like eggs."

  "Well, 'Fingy,' the guy that bumped off Schurman ate a big meal;he ate six eggs; he opened the safe like you do, he entered theapartment like you do. What you got to say about that?"

  "What of it? I ain't got nothin' to say about it. I was givin' aparty to some friends, I'm tellin' you. You can ask 'em."

  "Yeah, we'll ask 'em all right, 'Fingy'. What time did yourfriends come to the party?"

  "They began droppin' in about eleven o'clock."

  "And where was you about two or three hours before that?"

  "I was home in my apartment."

  "Anybody with you there during that time?"

  Smith wet his lips. His features had become drawn. He was a longtime answering this question. Finally he shook his head.

  "I don't remember."

  "Oh, you don't remember, huh. Well, 'Fingy,' you'd betterremember. You don't know how important it is for you to rememberthat little thing, 'Fingy'."

  He walked close to the prisoner and stood huge, bulging andthreatening over him.

  "Do you recognize this?" He held out a small nail file wrapped intissue.

  The prisoner looked at it. He was now very much ill at ease.

  "What do you mean, do I recognize it?"

  "Did you ever see this before, 'Fingy'?"

  "I seen thousands of nail files like this."

  "Did you ever own one like it?"

  "Sure, I owned dozens, what of it?"

  "Well, 'Fingy,' this was found under Schurman's safe. Your fingerprints is o
n it."

  The prisoner's head jerked back as if struck a blow. He looked atthe file, he reached out for it and drew his hand back. He lookedwith startled eyes at his inquisitor. He sat back in his chair. Hesneered:

  "Aw, hell, it's a frame up. How can my finger prints be on--" hesprang to his feet. "I wasn't there, I tell you, I wasn't there."The last word ended in a scream. He stood tense, rigid and fellback into his chair. He took an ornate handkerchief from hispocket and wiped his palms. He passed the handkerchief over hisface.

  Conners looked toward the men who had brought in the prisoner. Heasked:

  "Got him booked?"

  "No, we're jest holdin' him."

  "Take him away and book him. Charge him with the murder of AugustSchurman."

  During the cross-examination, Professor Brierly had not once takenhis eyes from the prisoner. He was staring at him with the intentabsorption he gave to an interesting specimen under themicroscope. As they were about to lead Smith away, ProfessorBrierly started forward.

  "Just a moment, Sergeant, before you take him away, I'd like tohave an impression of his mouth, rather his teeth, his upper andlower teeth. If there is a dentist near by--"

  "His teeth, Professor. In the name of God what do you want with animpression of his teeth."

  The assistant district attorney injected himself into theproceedings:

  "District Attorney McCall, Sergeant, gave explicit orders thatProfessor Brierly be given every opportunity to make a completeexamination; that he be afforded every facility--"

  "Oh, all right. We'll have some dentistry. Dan, go over across thestreet and ask Doc Harris to come over here with the material fortakin' an impression. Step on it."

  When the impression had been taken, Professor Brierly said to thedentist:

  "Doctor, we should like to have a model of this right away,please. It is important."

  "It may not be a very good one, Professor, a stone model would bebetter, but it will take--"

  "Yes, I know, that will take too long. Speed is essential. It willbe accurate enough. Hasten the setting, please, doctor."

  When the prisoner was taken away, the Sergeant turned to ProfessorBrierly; he said with gracious condescension:

  "I dunno what that impression is for, Professor, but I guess mebbeyou know what you're doin'. But we got the man who bumped offSchurman, ain't we?"

  Professor Brierly took from his pocket an object that he showed toConners:

  "Do you recognize this, Sergeant?"

  "Why, ain't this the apple with the teeth marks you found inSchurman's refrigerator? How could it keep like this?"

  "No, it is not, Sergeant; it is a replica. Take it into your handand you will see it is not an apple. It is a model of the appleyou saw. Alphonse Poller was the brilliant scientist who devisedthis method of taking impressions and making models. He called it'moulage.' The word is used either as a verb or a noun.

  "Off hand, I should say that 'Fingy' Smith's teeth will not fitinto the marks made in this apple. When the plaster model comes uphere we will see."

  "What of it?" belligerently protested Conners. "We have hisfingerprints; that's good enough for me. Someone else could havetaken the bite in the apple."

  "Who, Sergeant, who? Who could have taken that bite? Mr. Schurmandid not do it. His teeth did not fit; I looked. The teeth of thehousekeeper and the maid did not do it; I looked at their teeth.All of the housekeeper's upper teeth are artificial, she wears aplate. The maid has all her own teeth.

  "This model shows that the person who bit into the apple, has atwo tooth bridge on the upper jaw. The left lateral incisor isattached to the left canine, the eye tooth."

  "But my God, Professor, you are setting up teeth marks againstfingerprints. Teeth marks, well what's the difference betweenteeth marks. Some may be different, but--"

  "Tooth marks, Sergeant, are as distinctive as fingerprints. No twosingle objects in the whole wide world are alike. No two red bloodcorpuscles coming from the same blood stream are precisely alike.True, they may differ only microscopically, but they differnevertheless."

  "Professor," asked Jimmy, "couldn't two artificial sets of teethbe alike?"

  "Of course not! While the teeth are moulded by machinery, they areset up on a model of the individual's mouth by hand. And can youconceive a human pair of hands setting up two sets of teethprecisely alike? It is unthinkable."

  "But, Professor," pursued Conners, "lookit the case we got againstthis bird. There's his record. He always works his jobs this way;he left what we call his 'callin' card.' The large meal, the eggsthe housekeeper says was missin' and last of all there's the nailfile with his fingerprints.

  "You heard his alibi, Professor. He spent part of the night withfriends of his, other crooks. He can't account at all for the houror two before and after Schurman was killed."

  "The plaster models will be here, shortly, Sergeant. You can thensee for yourself. All you say is correct but you must, before youconvict him, account for the tooth marks in that apple. That is ofthe utmost importance, Sergeant."

  The plaster models of the upper and lower teeth of the prisonercame up in a short time. Professor Brierly held out the models andthe moulage to the police officer:

  "Here, Sergeant, see if you can make them fit. You don't have tobe a dentist to see that the teeth that bit into the apple are notthe teeth of which these are models."