"How can you be afraid of me?" said Lee. "I am so little!"
"You're little," she said, "but, Oh, my!...Lee, I found that I had a guest in my apartment...Whom do you think it was?...It was...It was Al Yohe."
"Good God!" said Lee. He was not, however, greatly surprised. He had felt it coming.
Delphine nodded her head violently. "Yes, Al Yohe. Did you ever hear of such a colossal nerve? Making himself perfectly at home. Waited on hand and foot by my two adoring maids."
"Is he still there?" asked Lee grimly.
"I don't think so. You can call up if you like. I told him I was going to tell you."
"Then he won't be there now," said Lee, resuming his meal.
"Of course, I ought to have called you up before the performance," Delphine went on, "but I just couldn't bring myself to do it! The poor lad had flung himself on my mercy with complete confidence that I wouldn't betray him. And those terrible stories in the papers today and all! And if I
had
given him up, I would certainly have lost both my maids. Just at the beginning of the season, too, it would have been beastly awkward. As soon as I settle down in this part I want to do a little entertaining..."
"So you had dinner with him."
She nodded with a guilty smile. "And I never was better entertained, Lee. He's so beguiling! I tried to be stern with him, but he made me laugh!"
"How long had he been there?"
"Since yesterday at half past one."
"Was he disguised?"
"His hair was dyed black and he wore a cunning little mustache. That was all except a grocer's apron and a basket of vegetables."
"Vegetables!"
"Yes, he came to the service door yesterday with his basket. He sat down in the kitchen, and within half an hour, I gathered, had my cook and my housemaid completely charmed. He told them who he was. They knew he was a friend of mine and they put him in my spare bedroom and went out to do his shopping for him. Later in the afternoon--this is the most incredible part, Lee--he told them his wife was short of money and he wanted to get in touch with her and give her some. His
wife
, Lee! Did you know he had a wife? A wife
and
a baby!
Al Yohe
!"
"I knew it," said Lee. "Go on."
"It didn't make any difference with those two infatuated females...Well, it didn't make any difference with me, either! Al is such a lamb! But I'm truly sorry for the woman who married him! He put on a pair of black glasses Cook had bought for him, and took a stick, and Cook led him through the streets as if he were blind. Cook is so respectable, you know, she in herself would be the best of disguises. Everybody looked at them so sympathetically, she said."
"What's your cook's name?"
"Rose. Mrs. Rose Craigin. She's sixty if she's a day, but still romantic!"
"Al Yohe is a devil!" said Lee.
"That's what I said. But so beguiling, Lee! The way his eyelids fold at the corners...They met his wife in the park. Such a sweet girl, Cook said. And the baby, of course. He gave her money and Cook led him back to my place. Nobody suspected them. Nobody would ever suspect them."
"He spent the night in your apartment?"
"Yes. And all day today. Incidentally, Lee, he couldn't have gone to Philadelphia yesterday, because both girls swear that the three of them played five hundred all evening with a dummy in my dining room. But wouldn't it be terrible if they had to testify to that. I'd be disgraced!"
"Perhaps it won't be necessary," said Lee dryly. "I am already satisfied that he wasn't in Philadelphia."
"Well, if he didn't kill the man in Philadelphia, perhaps he didn't kill the man in New York, either. Lee, I simply cannot believe that Al Yohe is a murderer!"
Lee snorted indignantly. "Just because his eyelids fold so sweetly at the corners! Really, Delphine, you are as bad as your maids! I thought you had more sense!"
"Well, I'm only a woman," she retorted with spirit, "and perhaps weak where a handsome young man is concerned. But I have not altogether taken leave of my senses at that. I've been around; I've known a lot of men and I would be willing to bet my last dollar that this man has not got a murder on his conscience!"
"I hope to God you may be right," said Lee. "Drink your wine."
As soon as she left him, Lee dutifully conveyed Delphine Harley's story to Inspector Loasby by telephone. The Inspector was bitter.
"You are always telling me just too late where Al Yohe could be found!"
"I lost no time in passing it along," said Lee.
"By God!" exploded Loasby. "I'm going to prosecute those two maids for concealing a criminal! I'll make an example of them!"
"You'll have to arrest Miss Harley, too," Lee pointed out. "Do you want to take that responsibility?" Loasby subsided in sullen profanity.
"Don't waste your time in such side issues now," Lee urged. "After we clean up this case it will be time enough to decide who's to be punished."
Loasby immediately sent men to Miss Harley's apartment, but, of course, the bird had flown hours before. The frightened maids asserted that he had left immediately after Miss Harley went to the theater. At that time he had no disguise except his dyed hair and his little mustache. Once more the city had swallowed Al Yohe.
Chapter 15
All day Wednesday and Wednesday night Loasby was engaged in rounding up the underworld characters of Manhattan. Every young man suspected by the police of being a potential killer was brought into Headquarters and questioned. At noon on Thursday, the Inspector called up Lee in high satisfaction.
"At last we've had a break, Mr. Mappin. We have got the man who killed Robert Hawkins."
"Good!" said Lee. "You are certain?"
"Absolutely. O'Mara has positively identified him as the man who ate dinner with Hawkins in Frankford and afterwards accompanied Hawkins to his room."
"What about the waitress who served their dinner?"
"I've sent to Philadelphia for her."
Later Lee drove down to Headquarters to have a look at the prisoner. Loasby said:
"His right name appears to be Dominick Stacey, but he has gone under many aliases. They call him the Jocker, or Jocker Stacey. He has a long police record. Has been suspected of a gangster killing but has never been up on a homicide charge. A thoroughly bad egg."
"He's been questioned, I take it."
"Questioned?" said Loasby grimly. "And how! Going on four hours now. By the best men I've got. He hasn't weakened. Claims that he spent Tuesday afternoon and night with his girl. She's been brought in; swears that Jocker was with her in her room the whole time; that she cooked supper for him. The alibi is worthless because they can't name anybody who saw them between the hours of four and midnight on Thursday."
"You have searched his place and hers for the price of the murder?"
"Sure. No results."
"I suppose he's been told that he would get off easier if he told who hired him."
"Sure. And laughed in our faces."
While Lee was in Loasby's office, the waitress from Philadelphia was brought in by a detective. As soon as he saw her, Lee felt dubious of the result. A pale, anemic little woman, excitement and terror had reduced her almost to a gibbering state. The heavy, fatherly air that Loasby adopted toward her only frightened her the more. She could scarcely articulate.
On an upper floor at Headquarters, the usual scene was staged in the theater where the line-up took place every morning. The woman from Philadelphia was seated in the dark auditorium along with Lee, Loasby and several detective officers. A strong light was thrown on the stage and six men, all of about the same age and same general appearance were led upon it to stand in line. Five of them were presumably police officers. Each in turn was required to stand this way and that, to walk, to assume a pair of thick-lensed glasses, to answer a few questions. They were then all taken off the stage and sent back upon it, one at a time.
While the fourth man was standing in the strong light Loasby nudged Lee to let him know that this was the prisoner. Lee was saddened by the sight of him, he was such a fine physical specimen; tall, muscular and hard. A four hours' grilling from the police had not so much as ruffled his nerves. He was smiling a little. Under other circumstances, Lee thought, he might have been a hero.
To Inspector Loasby's delight, the woman picked the right man. But when the performance was repeated, she chose another man, and when they went through it again, still a different one. Loasby swore under his breath and she broke into a hysterical weeping. The performance was called off and Lee saw the prisoner being led away with a contemptuous smile. They all trooped downstairs.
"Well, at any rate," grumbled Loasby, "we're no worse off than we were before. O'Mara's identification is positive."
"After the woman's nerves quiet down, try her again," suggested Lee.
As Lee and his girls were preparing to close the office for the day, there was another phone call from Headquarters. Loasby's voice sounded agitated.
"Mr. Mappin, Charlotte has given us the slip."
"Hey?" said Lee.
"Shortly before four she expressed a wish to take the baby out for an airing. She had been before and they let her go. She was followed, of course. She went into a store at the corner of Eighty-sixth, leaving the gocart in the street. This store had a second entrance on the side street and my man stood on the corner where he could watch both doors. She was in the store quite a while. Then he saw her run across the sidewalk carrying the baby and get in a taxi. It was the only taxi on the stand. My man commandeered a car to follow, but the driver was rattled, he says. Anyhow, the taxi made a getaway in the traffic."
"Maybe she'll be back," suggested Lee.
"I doubt it. The taxi returned to his stand in a couple of minutes. Said he'd driven her just a little way into the park. He took my man to the place, but of course there was no sign of Charlotte. I'm convinced she's gone to join Al. We have the gocart."
Lee sympathized with the harassed Inspector.
"Well, this may prove to be Al's undoing," said Loasby with forced optimism. "It is possible for a single man by disguising himself to keep out of our hands, but a wife and a baby will treble his risks. You can't disguise a baby. I'm confident we'll have all three of them within twenty-four hours."
Lee smiled into the transmitter. "I trust so," he said.
"I called you up," Loasby continued, "to warn you that I could no longer keep the wife and baby out of the picture. I must send out a general alarm for them now."
"I'm sorry for that," said Lee, "but, of course, I see the necessity. When are you going to give the story out?"
"Immediately."
After he had said good night to the girls, Lee had himself driven up to the Gartrey apartment. He wanted to be present when Agnes Gartrey heard the news. He was shown into her boudoir. She was alone. Her greeting was invidious. Very likely George Coler had warned her against Lee; perhaps she was wondering if it was really worth while any longer to keep up the pretense that they were friends. Lee was not at all put out by her insolent indifference. It was more comfortable to be on an honest footing.
As always, he enjoyed Agnes as disinterestedly as he enjoyed a fine work of art. He didn't want her for his collection. The last few days had left their mark on her; make-up could no longer hide the little hollows in her smooth cheeks, the slightly sunken eyes. Lee, regarding her as a connoisseur, considered that these evidences of human passion really made her look handsomer than before. When everything was going well, her face was too smooth, too perfect. In order to explain his presence, he said:
"I thought you'd like to hear some of the latest developments in the case that concerns us both so deeply."
"That was good of you," she murmured. "I know nothing but what I read in the papers. I have to act a lie with everybody who comes here. It is only with you that I can be myself !"
So she had decided that it would be worth while to flatter him a little further!
Lee heard a slight sound as of someone approaching in the corridor. It aroused his suspicion because he did not hear it go away. For the moment he said nothing.
Watching Agnes closely without appearing to, he started to tell her in detail of what had happened in Philadelphia. Moving about the room in her silken draperies, indifferently arranging her bibelots, she was listening with the keenest attention. But the story did not appear to come close to her at any point. This woman was armed against surprise; she had only one weakness--Al Yohe. Lee thought with professional admiration: Agnes Gartrey has the makings of a great criminal!
"Such a stupid crime!" he said.
Agnes shrugged. "Aren't all crimes stupid?"
Lee finished his story by saying: "The police believe that they have the murderer. He goes by the name of Jocker Stacey."
Agnes lit a cigarette. "Has he confessed?" she drawled.
"No. He offers a phony alibi."