Читать книгу: «Under Cover», страница 12

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

DENBY came eagerly down the stairs, looking about him with no especial care. He had learned that the special service men assumed him to have made good his escape and were contenting themselves with surrounding the gardens.

“What’s happened?” he asked, coming quickly toward her. “Is everything all right now? Where is – ”

Ethel interrupted him. “Will you have a cigarette, Dick?” she asked, pushing the silver box to him.

He took it calmly enough but instantly realized her warning. His alert gaze swept about the room and dwelt no longer on the screen than any other of its furnishing, but he knew where his enemy was hidden. “Thanks,” he said simply, and lighted it with a hand that was steady.

“Now we are alone,” she said, “and those men imagine you are not here, and I admit you’ve beaten me, please tell me the truth about that necklace. What have you done with it?”

“Are you still persisting in that strange delusion?” he asked calmly. “I never had a necklace, Miss Cartwright.”

“But I know you did,” she persisted, “I saw it.”

“Ah, you thought you did,” he corrected. “We went all over that in my room and I imagined I had persuaded you. Why do you want to know this?”

“The agent of the secret service has been here,” she told him, “and he suspects that I am defending you and won’t believe what I say. If you’ll tell me the truth, I’ll get him to let you go.”

“Then the secret service agent is just as wrong as you,” he remarked. “I have no necklace. Because I knock down a man who breaks into my room at night and escape rather than be shot, am I supposed on that account to carry these fabulous necklaces about with me? I don’t care even to prolong this conversation, Miss Cartwright.”

At this point Lambart entered, and coming toward him, delivered a small package.

“Pardon me, sir,” the butler began, “but Mr Vaughan asked me to take this to your room.”

“What is it?” Denby asked, and a slight movement behind the screen betokened the curiosity of the man hidden there.

“Mr. Vaughan didn’t say, sir,” Lambart returned. “He only said it was very important for you to get it immediately.” Lambart bowed and retired.

“I wonder what on earth Monty can be sending me at this time of the night,” said Denby, balancing the thing as though to judge its contents from the weight. “It must be important, so forgive me if I see what it is.”

He tore the envelope open carelessly, and out of it dropped the necklace. Quickly he stooped down and picked it up, putting it in his left-hand coat-pocket.

The girl could not refrain from giving a cry as he did so. “Oh,” she exclaimed, “we’re done for now.”

There was a crash behind them as the screen clattered to the floor and Daniel Taylor stepped over it, levelled gun in hand.

“Hands up, Denby,” he commanded, and then blew his police whistle.

He looked sourly at the trembling girl by the table. “I don’t know how you tipped him off, but you two are damned smart, aren’t you? But I’ve got you both now, so it’s just as well it happened as it did.”

Gibbs and Duncan burst in, their anxious faces breaking into smiles of joy. The Chief’s temper if his plans miscarried was a fixed quantity and an unpleasant one. They had been consoling themselves outside, and Duncan had been wishing he had Gibbs’ outside job. Now everything would be well and they would each be able to boast in his home circle of to-night’s exploit.

“You’re both under arrest,” Taylor said, addressing his captives. “Boys,” he commanded his satellites cordially, “take her into one of those side rooms and keep her there till I call. They can talk without speaking, these two. I’ll question ’em separately.”

For the second time within an hour he searched Denby. From the right-hand pocket of his dinner jacket he took an automatic pistol. From the left he drew out the string of pearls.

“It’s a pippin, all right,” Taylor muttered, his eyes gloating over the treasure. “How much did you pay the girl?”

“Not a cent,” his prisoner asserted. “Nothing. You’re all wrong there.”

“Then why did she tip you off just now?”

“She didn’t tip me off,” Denby told him. “She didn’t say a word, as you yourself must have heard.”

“Can it! can it!” Taylor retorted impatiently. “I saw the result all right, but I couldn’t get on to the cause. What did she do it for?”

Denby shrugged his shoulders and smiled a little. It was the first time he had come off his high horse.

“Maybe,” he hinted, “she didn’t want to see me go to prison.”

“Oh, you pulled the soft stuff, eh?” Taylor said. “Well, she tried to double-cross me and that don’t pay, Denby. She’ll find that out, all right.”

Denby assumed a certain confidential air. “Look here, Taylor,” he said, “so long as she did the decent thing by me, I’d like to see her out of this. You’ve got me, and you’ve got the pearls – Why not let her go?”

Taylor shook his head. He did not signalize his triumphs by the freeing of captives or the giving of rewards. “I guess not,” he returned with his sourest look. “You’ve both given me a lot of unnecessary trouble, and I think a little trip down south ought to fix you two comfortably. What do you say to five years in Atlanta? Fine winter climate they say.”

“Then I guess we are up against it;” Denby sighed.

“You are, son,” Taylor assured him; “right up against it.”

“Take it out on me,” the other implored; “ease up on her. It isn’t as if she were a grafter, either. Why, I offered her twenty thousand dollars to square it.”

“Tried to bribe a Government official, eh?” Taylor observed. “That don’t make it any better for you.”

“Oh, you can’t prove it against me,” Denby returned easily.

“Twenty thousand dollars,” Taylor muttered; “twenty thousand dollars! So you were trying to smuggle it in for the Harringtons, then?”

“I hate bringing names in,” said Denby, looking at him shrewdly.

“Well, they’ll have to come out in court anyway,” the other reminded him, and then reverted to the money. “Twenty thousand dollars!” he repeated. “It seems to mean a whole lot to you – or somebody – to get this through, eh?”

“It does,” Denby returned, “and it’s a big lot of money; but I’d rather pay that than sample your winter climate down south – see?” He looked at him still with that air of confidence as though he expected Taylor to comprehend his motives.

“Say, what are you trying to do?” Taylor said sharply; “bribe me?”

“What an imagination you have!” Denby said in astonishment. “Why, you couldn’t be bribed, Mr. Taylor!”

“You bet your life I couldn’t,” the deputy-surveyor returned.

Denby sighed. “What a pity I didn’t meet a business man instead of you.”

Taylor’s sharp eyes looked at the speaker steadily.

“You couldn’t square it even with a business man for twenty thousand dollars.”

Denby met his shrewd gaze without lowering his eyes.

“If I’d met the right kind of business man,” he declared, “I shouldn’t have offered twenty thousand dollars,” he said meaningly; “I’d have offered him all I’ve got – and that’s thirty thousand dollars.”

A slow smile chased Taylor’s intent expression away. “You would?” he said.

“I would,” Denby answered steadily.

“A business man,” Taylor returned, “wouldn’t believe you had that much unless he saw it with his own eyes.”

“I should prove it,” Denby answered. And with his first and second finger he probed behind his collar and produced three new ten-thousand-dollar bills.

“Beauties, aren’t they?” he asked of the staring Taylor.

The official seemed hypnotized by them. “I didn’t know they made ’em that big,” he said reverently.

When Denby next spoke, his tone was brisker. “Look here, Taylor, I haven’t been in Paris for two years.”

There was understanding in Taylor’s face now. “You haven’t?” he returned.

“And in case of a come-back, I’ve witnesses to prove an alibi.”

“You have?” Taylor responded, his smile broadening.

“How much does the Government pay you?” Denby questioned.

Taylor’s eyes were still on the bills. “Three thousand a year,” he answered.

Denby inspected the crisp bills interestedly. “Ten years’ salary!” he commented. “You couldn’t save all this honestly in your lifetime.”

Denby raised his eyes and the two men looked at one another and a bargain was as certainly made as though documents had been drawn up attesting it.

Taylor’s manner altered instantly. He removed his hat and became a genial, not to say jocular, soul.

“Too bad,” he said sympathetically, “a mistake like that happening.”

“It is a bit inconvenient,” Denby allowed.

“I’m sorry to have bothered you,” the deputy-surveyor assured him, “but you’re all right, Mr. Denby. I figured from the first that you might be a business man, and that’s why you slipped through so easily.”

“You’re a pretty smart man, Mr. Taylor,” Denby admitted, “and I think these belong to you.” He held out the money.

“Yes, I think they do,” Taylor said eagerly, reaching out for the bills.

“Wait a minute!” Denby cried, holding the money back. “How do I know you won’t take it and then double-cross me?”

“I’ll give you my word for it,” Taylor assured him fervently.

“That security isn’t good enough,” Denby remarked slowly. “We haven’t done business together before, and those two men of yours – are they in on it?”

“Not on your life,” Taylor laughed. “I haven’t split with anybody for five years. This is a one man job, Mr. Denby.”

“That may be,” the other protested, “but they saw you pinch me!”

“I’ll tell them it was all a mistake and I’ve got to call it off. I know the kind of help I want when I’m tackling a one man job.”

“Do you think you can get away with it?” Denby asked doubtfully.

“I always have,” Taylor said simply. “There’s no need for you to get scared.”

Denby still seemed perturbed. “I’ve been hearing a lot about this R. J.,” he told the official. “I don’t like what I’ve heard either. Is he suspicious about you by any chance?”

“What do you know about R. J.?” Taylor asked quickly.

“Some friends of mine – business men – in London, tipped me off about him. They said he’s been investigating the bribery rumors in the Customs.”

“Don’t you worry about him, my boy,” Taylor said with a reassuring air, “I’m the guy on this job.”

“That’s all well enough,” Denby said, “but I don’t want to give up thirty thousand and then get pinched as well. I’ve got to think about myself.”

Taylor leaned across eagerly. “Say, if that R. J. has scared you into thinking he’ll ball things up, I don’t mind admitting – in strict confidence – who he is.”

“So you know?” Denby retorted. “Who is he? I want to be on my guard.”

“Well, he isn’t a thousand miles from here.”

“What!” Denby cried in astonishment.

Taylor tapped himself upon the chest with an air of importance. “Get me?”

“Well, that’s funny,” Denby laughed.

“What’s funny?” Taylor retorted.

“Why, R. J. is supposed to be death on grafters and you’re one yourself.”

“I’m a business man,” Taylor said with a wink. “I’m not a grafter – I should worry about the Government.”

“Well I guess I’ll take a chance,” Denby said, after a momentary pause.

“That’s the idea,” Taylor cried cheerfully.

“Provided,” Denby added, “you let me have a few words with your men. They’ve got to understand I’m innocent, and I want to see how they take it. You see, I don’t know them as well as you do. They’ve got to back you up in squaring me with the Harringtons. You’ve put me in all wrong here, remember.”

“Why sure,” Taylor agreed generously, “talk your head off to ’em.”

“And you’ll leave the girl out of it?”

“I’ll do more than that,” Taylor told him with a grin; “I’ll leave her to you.”

Denby heaved a sigh of relief. “Now we understand one another,” he said. “Here’s your money, Taylor.”

“Much obliged,” Taylor responded. He handed the other the pearls. “I’ve no evidence,” he declared in high good humor, “that you ever had any necklace. Have a cigar, Mr. Denby?”

“Thanks,” the younger man returned; “I’ll smoke it later it you don’t mind. Now call ’em in.”

“Certainly,” Taylor said briskly. “And say, I’m glad to have met you, Mr. Denby; and next time you’re landing in New York and I can be of use, let me know.” He leered. “I might be of considerable use, understand?”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

TAYLOR walked briskly across the hall and threw open the door of the room in which his subordinates were guarding their prisoner. “Duncan,” he called, “and Gibbs, come here.”

When they had come in with Ethel Cartwright, he turned to them impressively. “Boys,” he declared, “it was all a mistake.”

“What!” cried his men.

“Thank God!” the girl cried softly.

“Our dope was phoney. We were tipped off wrong by someone, out of mischief or malice – I’ll have to look into that – and we’re all in wrong. It was a case of mistaken identity, but Mr. Denby’s been very nice about it, very nice, indeed. Let the lady go, Jim.”

“I asked Mr. Taylor to send for you,” Denby explained, “because I thought it was due you, and I didn’t want any come-back. I want you all to understand the facts, if you don’t mind waiting, Miss Cartwright.”

“Of course I’ll wait,” she said brightly. What had happened to change things she could not guess, but she was confident the man she loved had some magic to save them both.

“Listen to him, boys,” Taylor counselled. “You see, he’s a bit anxious to straighten things out, so tell him all you know. Fire ahead, Mr. Denby.”

Denby addressed himself to James Duncan. “You got a tip from Harlow that a Steven Denby had bought a necklace at Cartier’s?”

“Yes, sir,” Duncan agreed.

Denby now turned to Gibbs who assumed a character of importance.

“Then you got a wireless that this Denby had sailed with Mrs. Michael Harrington and Mr. Montague Vaughan, which threw suspicion on the lady as a possible smuggler?”

“That’s right, too,” Gibbs conceded, contentedly.

“And yet,” Denby remarked with inquiry in his tone, “you let Denby slip through the Customs to-day, didn’t you?”

Taylor’s satisfied expression had faded partially. “You see,” he explained, “we didn’t have any absolute evidence to arrest him on.”

“Just what I was going to say,” Gibbs remarked.

“But after he got through,” Denby went on, “you received an anonymous telegram late this afternoon that Denby carried the necklace in a tobacco-pouch, didn’t you?”

Taylor advanced a step frowning. “What’s all this, anyway?” he demanded. “How do you know about that telegram?”

“I found it out to-night,” Denby said pleasantly.

“That’s a private Government matter,” Taylor blustered.

Denby looked at him in surprise. “Surely,” he said, “you don’t object to my making things clear? I was pretty nice to you, Mr. Taylor.”

Taylor’s fingers nestled tenderly about the crackling notes in his pocket. “All right,” he assented, “go ahead.”

Denby turned on the expectant Gibbs.

“You knew about that tip in the telegram?”

“First I ever heard about it,” Gibbs returned, open-eyed.

“Then you didn’t tell them?” Denby observed, looking toward their chief.

“That was my own business,” Taylor said impatiently. He wished this fool cross-examination over, and himself out of Long Island.

“Did it ever occur to you boys that it was rather peculiar that this supposed smuggler wasn’t searched – that he got through without the slightest trouble?”

“Why, the Chief didn’t want to get in any mix-up with the Harringtons in case he was wrong about Denby,” Gibbs elucidated.

“Oh, I see,” Denby remarked, as though the whole thing were now perfectly straightforward. “He told you that, did he?”

“He sure did,” Duncan agreed readily.

“Don’t you boys see,” Denby said seriously, “that this whole job looks very much as if the scheme was to let Denby slip through and then blackmail him?”

“I never thought of that,” Duncan returned.

“Me, neither,” the ingenuous Gibbs added.

“Wait a minute,” Taylor said irritably. “What’s all this got to do with you? I admit we made a mistake – I’ll take the blame for it – and we’re sorry. We can’t remedy it by talking any more. Come on, boys.”

“Wait just a minute,” Denby exclaimed. “Don’t you know,” he went on, addressing himself to the two subordinate officials, “that it’s rather a dangerous thing to monkey with the United States Government? It’s a pretty big thing to fool with. You might have got into serious trouble arresting the wrong man.”

“I haven’t been monkeying with the Government,” Gibbs said nervously. All his official carelessness recurred to him vividly. “I wouldn’t do a thing like that.”

“Neither have I,” Duncan made eager reply.

Taylor took a hand in the conversation. “That’s all settled,” he said, with an air of finality. “We all know Mr. Denby never had a necklace.”

“That’s clearly understood, is it?” Denby returned.

“What I say is right,” Taylor retorted, and glared at his underlings.

“What the Chief says is right,” Gibbs admitted with eagerness.

“What the Chief says is wrong,” Denby cried in a different voice. “I did smuggle a necklace in through the Customs to-day. Here it is.”

They looked at it in consternation. “What!” they ejaculated.

Taylor had owed his safety ere this to rapid thinking.

“Then you’re under arrest!” he cried.

“Oh, no I’m not,” Denby rejoined, turning to the startled men. “Your chief caught me with the goods and I paid him thirty thousand dollars to square it.”

Taylor came at him with upraised fist. “Why, you – ” he roared, “I’ll – ”

Denby seized the clenched fist and thrust it aside. “You won’t,” he said calmly; “you’re only a bully after all, Taylor. You couldn’t graft on your own – you had to drag a girl into it, and you’ve made me do some pretty rotten things to-night to land you. I’ve had to make that girl suffer, but you’ll pay for it. I’ve got you now, and you’re under arrest.”

“Aw, quit your bluffing,” Taylor jeered; “you can’t arrest me, Denby.”

“The man who’ll arrest you is named Jones,” Denby remarked.

“Who the hell is he?” Taylor cried.

“Ah, yes,” Denby admitted. “I forgot that you hadn’t met him officially and that the boys don’t know who he is either. Here’s my commission.” Gibbs stared at the document ravenously. “And that’s my photograph,” Denby added. “A pretty good likeness it’s usually considered.”

Duncan was now at his comrade’s side, poring over it. “It sure is,” he agreed.

“This thing,” said Gibbs the discoverer, “is made out in the name of Richard Jones!”

“Well, do you get the initials?” Denby queried.

“R. J.,” Gibbs read out as one might mystic things without meaning.

“That’s me,” Denby smiled, “R. J. of the secret service. That’s the name I’m known by.”

Gibbs offered his hand. “If you’re R. J.,” he said admiringly, “I’d like to shake hands with you. Are you, on the level, R. J.?”

“I’m afraid I am,” the other admitted.

“It’s a lie,” Taylor shouted.

Denby pointed to the paper. “You can’t get away from that signature. It’s signed by the President of the United States.”

“I tell you it’s a fake,” the man cried angrily.

“They don’t seem to think so,” Denby remarked equably.

“This is on the level, all right,” Duncan announced after prolonged scrutiny.

Denby turned to the deputy-surveyor.

“Taylor,” he said gravely, “for three years the Government has been trying to land the big blackmailer in the Customs. They brought me into it and I set a trap with a necklace as a bait. The whole thing was a plant from Harlow’s tip, the telegram I sent myself this afternoon, to the accidental dropping of the pearls, so that you could see them through the screen. You walked right into it, Taylor. Twice before you came and looked into other traps and had some sort of intuition and kept out of them. This time, Taylor, it worked.”

“You can’t get away with that,” Taylor said threateningly. “I’m not going to listen to this.”

“Wait a minute,” Denby advised him. “You’ve been in the service long enough to know that the rough stuff won’t go. You’d only get the worst of it; so take things easily.”

He smiled pleasantly at the other men. “I’m glad to find you boys weren’t in on this. Take him along with you, and this, too.” He tossed the necklace on the table from which it slid to the floor at Gibbs’ feet.

Gibbs made a quick step forward to recover it, but trod on part of the string and crushed many of the stones. Poor Gibbs looked at the damage he had done aghast. If the thing were worth two hundred thousand dollars, a ponderous calculation forced the dreadful knowledge upon him that he had destroyed possibly a quarter of them. Fifty thousand dollars! Tears came to his eyes. “Honest to goodness,” he groaned, looking imploringly at the august R. J., “I couldn’t help it.”

“Don’t worry,” Denby laughed. “They’re fakes. Take what’s left as Exhibit A.”

Gibbs recovered his ease of manner quickly and took a few steps nearer the fallen Chief. “And to think I’ve been working for a crook two years and never knew it,” he said, with a childlike air of wonder.

Taylor looked at Denby with rage and despair.

“Damn you,” he exploded, “you’ve got me all right, but I’ll send that girl and her sister up the river. You’re stuck on her and I’ll get even that way.”

Even in his fury he remarked that this threat did not disturb the man in the least. He saw the girl blanch and hide her face, but this cursed meddling R. J., as he called himself, only smiled.

“I think not,” Denby returned. “You forget that Mr. Harrington is vice-president of the New York Burglar Insurance Company and a friend of the late Mr. Vernon Cartwright. I hardly think he will allow a little matter like that to come into public notice. In fact, I’ve seen him about it already.”

“Oh, get me out of this,” Taylor cried in disgust.

“Just a minute,” Denby commanded. “I’ll trouble you for that thirty thousand dollars.”

“You think of everything, don’t you?” Taylor snarled, handing it back. “Is that a fake, too?”

“Oh, no,” he was told, “I borrowed that from Monty, who’s been a great help to me in this little scheme as an amateur partner.”

He put the bills in his pocket and took out the cigar Taylor had given him.

“Here’s your cigar,” he said.

Taylor snatched it from him, and biting off the end, stuck it in his mouth. He assumed a brazen air of bravado. “Well,” he cried bragging, “it took the biggest man in the secret service to land me, Mr. R. J., but I’ve got some mighty good pals, in some mighty good places, and they’ll come across for me, and don’t you forget it. After all, you’re not the jury, and all the smart lawyers aren’t dead yet.”

“I don’t think they’ll help you this time,” Denby said. “I believe you’ll still enjoy that winter climate.”

“Aw, come on, you dirty grafter,” Gibbs cried contemptuously, and with his partner led the broken man away.

Ethel came to his side when they were alone. “Did you really mean it about arranging with Mr. Harrington?” she cried.

He looked down at her tenderly. “Yes,” he said. “We’ve saved her.”

“And you are really R. J.?” she exclaimed wonderingly.

“I really am,” he returned. “Can’t you guess how much I wanted to tell you before? But I couldn’t you know, at first, because I thought you might be Taylor’s accomplice. And later, I still dared not, because I was under orders with my duty toward my Government. Can you forgive me for making you suffer like that?”

“Forgive you?” she whispered tenderly. “Haven’t I said I love you?”

He took her in his arms and kissed her.

“And everything’s all right now, isn’t it?” she sighed happily.

He looked at her whimsically.

“Except that I’m hungry – are you hungry?”

“Starved,” she cried.

“Let’s ask for some food,” he suggested. “Nothing would gratify Lambart so much. But I don’t think I’ve been so hungry since I was in Paris.”

“I wish it were Paris,” she said. “Dear Paris, where I first found R. J.”

“It shall be, whenever you say,” he answered, “and I’ll tell you all about R. J. and the lonely life he led till he saw you.”

“And to think I could believe for a moment you were a criminal!” she said, self-reproach in her voice, “and even try to trap you!”

“But you’ve caught me,” he said proudly.

“Have I really got you, Steve?” she asked, softly, holding out her arms to him.

THE END