Chapter 9
For the next twenty-four hours the watchers, though tired, were still at their posts. During the day not a sound came from the Bruker house. Everything was as quiet as if the place had been abandoned. Either the inmates were all asleep or had gone out. Not an instant, however, did the watchers relax their vigilance.
Final preparations had been made to raid the place at nine o'clock that evening, when it was reasonably certain that most of the gang, including Floyd Knapp, would be present. Everything had been carefully planned, not a detail overlooked.
In addition to the three operatives taking down on the tape recorder, every word uttered and who at the critical moment would take a hand in the final rush, Stryker had twelve plain clothes men downstairs in the street and backyard and half a dozen more on the roof. In face, the place was completely surrounded by armed officers!
Everything was quiet as the grave in the Bruker attic. As usual at this time, the house had been deserted all day. Only in the evening, when darkness favored their movement being unobserved, did the members of the gang emerge, and come to see their leader. Mrs. Martin was out getting food and beer for the evening meal. Bruker himself had not yet arrived. But it would not be long before they came. It was already growing dark. There was no time to be lost.
The clock was already on the stroke of seven when there was the sound of a key being cautiously inserted in the door. The next instant BUI poked his head in. Seeing that the room was empty, he made a gesture behind him, and Stryker appeared, followed closely by Janet. Both men carried small flashlights which enabled them to see.
Stryker advanced boldly and flashed his light here and there. Turning to Janet, he whispered:
"You're sure they all went out?"
She nodded.
"Yes, I saw them go."
He pointed to the landing and whispered:
"Just watch the stairs for us. They may return any minute."
She went as directed and stood on guard at the door through which they had entered.
Opening one of the cupboards, Stryker threw his flashlight all round.
"I'd like to search this rat-hole thoroughly."
"Guess you've got time enough."
Suddenly Janet, at the door, made a slight exclamation of warning: "Hush!"
"What is it?" asked Stryker, in a tense whisper and ready for any emergency.
"It's all right," she whispered. "I thought I heard someone."
The detective turned again to his assistant.
"Bill, you're getting to be a great plumber."
The young man chuckled. As he concealed the wires out on the fire-escape, he said:
"Well, we're going to get great results, all right."
When the job was completed to his satisfaction, Bill looked up and said:
"All right, boss."
Stryker turned to the dead wall behind which, in the next house, his operatives were waiting. In a low, perfectly natural tone he said:
"Boys, if the wires are working, and you hear me speaking, wave a handkerchief from your window."
Opening the window at the back, Bill thrust his head out to look for the expected signal. After a moment's wait he drew in his head and cried, exultantly:
"All right, they get it!"
Still on guard at the door, Janet began to grow uneasy.
"Don't you think you ought to come now?" she whispered anxiously.
Stryker held his hand out to his assistant.
"Give me that other mike, Bill." Then, going toward the young girl, he said: "Miss Boyington, here is the microphone. Conceal it in your room, as I explained to you, and my men will connect with it."
She nodded.
"I understand."
At that instant a whistle was heard in the street below. Quickly Bill turned to his chief. "There's our signal." Stryker made a quick gesture.
"You go back to the other house by the roof and wait. Don't leave the recorder-you stick to it until you hear from me-and then obey it instantly."
Janet turned to the detective in surprise.
"Aren't you going with him?"
"No," he answered, quickly; "I'm going to stay here with you."
"Oh, don't! They'll kill you!" He smiled, grimly.
On top of the transom over the door the electric buzzer flashed and spit ominously. Not an instant was to be lost. Another moment and they would be discovered.
"What shall we do?" she asked, her large eyes opening wide with terror.
"We'll go right back to your room," he said, quickly.
"But they'll see us!"
"No-we've time to get there."
Hurriedly they left the room, closing the door noiselessly behind them.
Next door the waiting operatives listened, but all was quiet again in the Bruker flat. Bill sat down. In a tense whisper he said:
"Now, boys, you want to sit tight."
As he spoke there was a sound of a door shutting next door. Bill held up a warning hand.
"Hush! They're here!"
There followed a dead silence, broken only by the soft purring of the tape recorder.
Mrs. Martin entered carrying a number of paper bundles. Karl Bruker looked up and smiled.
"Hello, mama! Been out getting us something good to eat, eh?"
Mrs. Martin laughed. Checking her merriment, she laid down her bundles with a sigh, and, taking off her hat, proceeded to get ready for the evening meal. Beyond the brief greeting, the counterfeiter did not interrupt his work.
Mrs. Martin watched him for a few moments in silence. Then, approaching the table, she put her arm round her husband's neck and lovingly rubbed her cheek against his.
"Always working-always working, aren't you, dear?" Stopping for a moment, he tenderly patted her cheek with his left hand as he answered:
"We must work, dear."
She drew back and looked at him anxiously.
"Oh, Karl, do you think there is any danger of our being discovered?"
He shrugged his shoulders. Then he turned and patted her affectionately on the cheek.
"Don't worry, dear. They haven't got Karl Bruker yet. I'll give a good account of myself, I promise you."
Reassured, she smiled again. Lightly she said:
"Perhaps we exaggerate the danger. How should they find us out here?"
"You never know when you give them a clue. I don't think it was wise to bring that girl here. I know I gave my consent, but it was a mistake."
"I couldn't help it," she replied hurriedly. "It would have aroused Stryker's suspicion if I had refused."
Karl nodded.
"You are right, dear. There was no way out of it"
As he spoke the electric buzzer spluttered and crackled. Someone had opened the street door and was coming upstairs. Quickly Karl jumped up.
"That must be Skidd!" he exclaimed.
Going to the top of the stairs, he peered over a moment, while she watched him anxiously. After a few moments he returned into the room and said:
"No, it's Knapp."
Mrs. Martin made a gesture of disapproval. "He ought to know better than this. He oughtn't-to come here now."
"It's because Gage telephoned him about that girl."
"Oh yes."
Karl laughed. Cynically he said:
"He is always finding fault with the things we do, and it is he who makes the mistakes."
The door opened, and Floyd Knapp appeared. Mrs. Martin advanced to meet him. Severely she said:
"You are wrong to come here!"
He paid no attention to her. Arrogant and aggressive, he advanced into the room with an air of authority. Slamming his hat down on the table and throwing his coat on a chair, he demanded:
"What's all this I hear about your bringing a strange woman here?"
"That's all right," exclaimed Mrs. Martin. "You needn't worry about that. I know what I'm doing."
The lawyer took a seat near the table. Insolently he demanded:
"What are you doing?"
Karl, who had been going on with his work in silence, now looked up. Quietly he said:
"Don't be so rough. She can explain to you."
The counterfeiter rose, put the bogus money in the money box, and locked it. Still seated and aggressive, Knapp asked:
"Who is it?"
"Miss Boyington."
The attorney bounded on his chair. This was even worse than he had imagined. "What? Here?" Mrs. Martin nodded.
"Stryker asked me to take charge of her."
Their visitor stared at her as if he thought she had taken leave of her senses. Throwing up his arms in indignant astonishment, he cried:
"My God! Are you crazy?"
She shook her head as she replied, quietly: "It would have been crazy to refuse." For a moment the attorney was too much overcome to speak. Finally he spluttered: "This is a plant."
"Listen," she began.
But he refused to listen. He saw only the danger to them all by this girl's presence in the house. No doubt everything that had occurred had already been reported to Stryker. Throwing up his hands in discouragement, he cried:
"The one person in the world that you should have kept farthest away from!"
Karl looked up. With some impatience he exclaimed:
"Don't talk so much, Knapp! Listen! Listen!"
Mrs. Martin drew up a chair. Bending forward, she said, earnestly:
"When I went in yesterday-about the legacy-he was planning to have the girl disappear. He wanted to protect her from reporters. And besides, he suspected someone in the Thomas house, and he wanted to throw suspicion on her and put them off their guard. It was my telling him I had furnished rooms that put the idea in his head. He thought, of course, that I must be under obligations to Mr. Thomas. I couldn't refuse to take her without arousing his suspicions. How could I? What excuse could I give? I couldn't tell him why we didn't want her here."
Karl had risen, and in deep thought paced slowly up and down the room. Turning round, he said:
"It would have been better to let that legacy go!"
Suddenly Mr. Knapp bent forward. Something in her recital had tickled his sense of humor.
"Hold on! Wait! Wait a minute! What was that? Do you mean to tell me that he's using us to throw the real criminals off their guard?"
"Yes. Because he wanted her to disappear. Don't you understand? He put the whole plan right in my hands. He was puzzling about it when I came in. She was there, and he was trying to make some arrangement."
"Well, by God!"
Springing to his feet, the lawyer burst into one of his fits of boisterous, convulsive laughter.
Karl glanced at Mrs. Martin and looked anxiously at the door and window. Such laughter as that might be heard in the street and attract attention. Approaching the lawyer, he said, warningly:
"Hush, man, hush!"
But Mr. Knapp, once started, was not easy to control. To him the notion of using them to throw the real criminals off their guard was inexpressibly droll, and could only have originated in the brain of an ass like Stryker. Hilariously he burst out again:
"Oh, it's all advertising! He's a pinhead!"
Again the counterfeiter held up his hand warningly.
"Hush! Not so loud!"
More calmly, the attorney went on:
"Have you seen the papers? They're full of her flight. Everybody is sure of her guilt now."
Mrs. Martin looked up anxiously.
"How terrible! Who is it that Stryker suspects?"
The lawyer smiled. With self-satisfaction he said:
"How could you guess? A man with a mind like that! I suppose he thinks it's Fred-because he hasn't taken him into his confidence. The boy's distracted; he's got the whole city searching for her."
Mrs. Martin turned to Karl. Anxiously she said:.
"Karl, if they never find out the truth, they'll never clear her. And if they do find out-"
Mr. Knapp interrupted her with a gesture. Scornfully he explained:
"Oh, they'll never find out! Stryker will cook up some story to vindicate the girl and cover his failure."
Rising from his seat, he went toward the door. Turning, he asked:
"Has he been here?"
"Yes."
Stopping and coming back to the table, he exclaimed: "You should have told me. Suppose I'd met him here."
"I never dreamed you'd come and how could I explain all this over a telephone."
"What did he say?"
"That his plan were working out satisfactorily-and he thought he'd get the murderer-through an old servant he'd found."
Again the lawyer burst into a noisy fit of laughter. "Really! Why, I put that notion into his head."
Anxious to get rid of their unwelcome visitor, Mrs. Martin looked pointedly at the clock.
"Do you think it wise for you to come here?" she asked.
Mr. Knapp picked up his hat. Hastily he answered: "No. Most assuredly not, and I'm going right away."
As Karl went to unlock the door, the lawyer added, with mock politeness:
"Mrs. Martin, I have to thank you for a most enjoyable visit. I'm afraid I sha'nt have the pleasure again for some time. Doctor, if I were you, I would interrupt the practice of my profession while the girl is in the house. If Stryker should call and get on the wrong floor he might have a shock."
Karl looked grave. Quietly he said:
"I think, Mr. Knapp, that if I were you I should leave town."
"Leave town? And miss these consultations with Stryker? Oh, no. I've too much sense of humor for that!"
Again he laughed hilariously. Karl held up a warning hand and he stopped abruptly. Turning quickly on his heel, he stammered a hasty goodnight, and disappeared.