Chapter XV
As Professor Brierly, followed by the two younger men steppedinto the busy city room, Hite held up a sheaf of telegrams thathad come for the old scientist during his short absence. ProfessorBrierly took them as Hite said, "When you get through with these,Professor, I'll give you a message, a verbal message that I've gotfor you."
Professor Brierly quickly ran through the messages. He looked up:
"You know, I instituted inquiry for one Amos Brown, who is thoughtby some members of the Tontine group to have been the onlysurviving member of the group known as '14'. Several of the mentold me they had reason to believe that it was he who used to sendthe blank sheets of paper with the number '14' on it. But inquiryshowed that they had really no proof of his being alive after1902. Subsequent to that they only got those messages to remindthem of his existence.
"These telegrams inform me that Amos Brown died in 1902 on theoutskirts of South Bend, Ind. But he was survived by a son and agrandson. The son, according to my informants, died about threeyears later. The grandson, who was also named Amos Brown, was lastheard of somewhere in the New England States.
"My informants tell me that the grandson is now about thirty-fiveyears old, if he is alive.
"So you see, there is an Amos Brown who might have inherited alongwith his grandfather's other possessions, his vendetta, hislifelong hatred for our Tontine group. But I am expecting moredetailed information that may place this grandson definitely. Nowwhat is the message you had for me, Mr. Hite?"
"Our man who covers headquarters, Professor, saw 'Fingy' Smith afew minutes after he was booked and charged. 'Fingy' insists onseeing you, personally."
Professor Brierly made a grimace of distaste.
"I do not like it. I do not like the atmosphere of a prison. Isuppose I ought to go. If the poor man is innocent he needs helpbadly. He is caught in a net of circumstantial evidence that maysend him to the electric chair. If I were certain he is innocent,I should not hesitate."
He bent his head in thought. After a long pause he looked up, hiseyes troubled.
"I shall go, Mr. Hite. Can it be arranged?"
"Sure it can. After what McCall said, they'll not raise anyobstacles to anything you want to do. I'll have Hale go along withyou."
"Have you heard from your reporters about the telephone call, Mr.Hite?"
Hite's eyes gleamed. "Yep. I heard from 'em. You sure got a bull'seye then, Professor. The records show that someone called Flynn'shome just about when the explosion occurred. The man in thefilling station remembers that a guy called about that time. Hecan't give a very good description. There was no car, Professor.The man at the service station says he saw the man go into thepatch of woods. He thought at the time that was because he wantedto get to the scene of the explosion. For that matter everybody inthe road was trying to get there. A few minutes afterward, the manat the filling station says he saw a man wheel a motorcycle out ofthe woods and ride past. He kinda thought it was the same man,though he didn't take particular notice. They were all excitedabout the explosion. That means that the man probably had hismotorcycle parked in the woods, while he was waiting for Flynn tocome home.
"Does that help you, Professor?"
"No, except that it corroborates a theory I had about the matter.It merely fits in with the rest of the devilish pattern."
No difficulty was encountered when the three men came to theTombs. Sergeant Conners was there ahead of them. He was not goingto permit the prisoner to work a sympathetic gag on the oldscientist. Conners realized that Brierly had considerableinfluence. If 'Fingy' could induce the old man to use hisinfluence in his behalf, it would not be so easy to convict him.
'Fingy' was not pleased at the presence of the police officer. Hemade the best of it however. He realized that he was not in aposition where he could dictate terms.
"Professor," he began, "I don't know about this taking animpression of my mouth and the other new fangled scientific bunk.But I know about you. I hear you're a straight shooter and I wantto spill the whole thing to you."
He gulped painfully and after a glance at the police officer hewent on:
"All the police is after is a record, see? And even the D.A.'soffice is the same. When the D.A. gets you before the jury he'lldo what he can to send you to the hot seat.
"Well I'm gonna give you the straight of this, Professor. Like Isaid, I was giving a party to some friends of mine that night.Early in the evening I get into a studd game on Second Avenue andgo broke, see? Cleaned, Professor. And here's this party comin'off with some good guys and nice gals comin'.
"All I had in the apartment was about a quart and a half of ginand a little rye. Not a thing to eat, not even a slice of bread ora drop of ginger ale.
"So what do I do? I breaks into a delicatessen store and gets aload of stuff. That was just about ten o'clock, the time thepapers say old man Schurman is croaked."
Sergeant Conners, who had listened with a sneer now emitted a loudsnort. The prisoner cast in his direction a fleeting look ofdefiance. His eyes returned to Professor Brierly who had beenstaring at him intently, while his tale unfolded. He continued:
"I know this sounds fishy, and what I'm gonna say now sounds evenmore so, mebbe, but if you'll just listen to me, sir, I'll provewhat I say.
"This delicatessen store is a little place on Grove Street nearEighth Avenue. Now you can think that I hears about thisdelicatessen store being broke in and I tells you about it becausethe real thief ain't comin' to the front to say he done it. Youcan think I can't prove it; you can think this ain't much of aalibi. But just listen, Professor. Look at this!"
He sprang from his chair and tore off his coat and vest. Connershad also sprung to his feet, but subsided when he saw that theprisoner did not contemplate violence. The prisoner in his hasteto unbutton his outer shirt, ripped the buttons. He exposed hisarm high up near the shoulder. He showed a ragged scar severaldays old.
'Fingy' continued:
"See this, Professor? When I was takin' some things from theshelves in the delicatessen store, I rips my coat and get thisscratch on a nail stickin' out from the shelf. The nail is threeshelves up from the floor near the last showcase on the right asyou go in."
Smith stopped. He was panting as though he had been running. Sweatwas streaming from his brow. He crumpled the shirt and wiped hisface with it. He began slowly putting on his shirt.
Professor Brierly was not looking at the prisoner. He was lookingat the police officer. In the latter's features incredulity wasstruggling with something else for expression. Professor Brierlysnapped his fingers.
"Hale, this must be verified! John, go with him; take the nail.Wait! Get an instrument and draw a drop of blood from Smith here.Compare it with the blood you find on the nail, if you find any.And--" He whirled on the prisoner.
"Where is the coat and shirt that were torn on the nail?"
"Still up in my apartment, I guess."
"Go on, John. Get the nail and the clothes; go on to our house,make the necessary tests as soon as you can."
At Jimmy's request, before he departed on his errand to thedelicatessen store, Professor Brierly was escorted to the officeof the Eagle by two plainclothes men who were ordered to shoot,and shoot to kill, at the slightest suspicious movement againstthe old scientist.
Hite went into blazing activity when Professor Brierly recountedthe result of his errand to the Tombs. Men, women and boys weresent scurrying to various sections of the city. The city editorbarked an order into a telephone in response to which the tremorof the presses which shook the building, ceased.
A rewrite man tactfully got from Professor Brierly the salientfeatures of the newest angle to the story.
Matthews was nodding his head emphatically as he came into thecity room and his glance met that of his mentor.
"It fits, Professor," he was saying. "The delicatessen store wasrobbed about the time Smith said it was; the nail was there, thehead covered with blood. There was a tear in his coat and shirt.Ther
e was some blood on the garments. The blood on the nail andthe clothes are of the same type as that of Smith. It might be allSmith's."
Jimmy went to the telephone and called up a high police official,a very much harassed official, one whose peace had been very muchdisturbed by the activities of the remarkable old gentleman. Thepapers, his superiors, the D.A.'s office had been riding himunmercifully. Now, when they had a crook whom the crime fitted sowell, this crazy old scientist had to come along and spoil it allwith his queer doings.
Jimmy, in short crisp sentences told this individual of the latestdevelopments of the Tontine murders. He concluded by asking:
"What are you going to do about this, Mr. Englehardt, and what areyou going to do with 'Fingy' Smith?"
Mr. Englehardt completely lost his temper, which a public officialshould never do with a newspaper man. In a hoarse voice that wasalmost a scream he yelled:
"You go to hell!"
The receiver was crashed down on the hook. Jimmy heard the click.He smiled, then his eyes took on a cold dancing light as he satdown at his typewriter. The light in his eyes boded ill for Mr.Englehardt.
Hite asked Professor Brierly:
"And what now, Professor. Where do we go from here?"
"I go from here to the camp on Lake Memphremagog, Mr. Hite." Thegame will be played out there. I am getting some more informationabout young Amos Brown, grandson of the ill-famed number '14'. Thelatest information brings him uncomfortably close to theHigginbotham camp.
"The pattern is beginning to take shape, Mr. Hite. The pieces arebeginning to fall into place. I believe that the next act in thistragedy will take place at or hear Justice Higginbotham's camp. Ifthere is nothing further to keep me here, I should like to goback. Is Mr. Hale going to continue his vacation with me, Mr.Hite?"
There was a humorous smile in the fine deep-set eyes. The skin onthe city editor's gaunt features wrinkled. He yelled:
"Hey Jimmy!" As Jimmy left his typewriter he said to the old man:"I see Jimmy is in the throes of a literary composition. He seemsall het up. But he can probably go with you right away. The planeis still at your disposal."
When Hale explained what he was writing, Hite's eyes glinted.
"Too bad, Jim, I hate to deprive you of the pleasure of writingit, but the Professor wants to go. Give it to Roy, Jim. He canraise as many blisters on the hide of a politician as you can."