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Within the Law: From the Play of Bayard Veiller, a novel by Marvin Dana |
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Chapter 16. Burke Plots |
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_ CHAPTER XVI. BURKE PLOTS The butler entered. "A man to see you, sir," he said. Gilder made a gesture of irritation, as he sank into the chair at his desk. "I can't see any one to-night, Thomas," he exclaimed, sharply. "But he said it was most important, sir," the servant went on. He held out the tray insistently. The master took the card grudgingly. As his eyes caught the name, his expression changed slightly. "Very well," he said, "show him up." His glance met the wondering gaze of his son. "It's Burke," he explained. "What on earth can he want--at this time of night?" Dick exclaimed. The father smiled grimly. "You may as well get used to visits from the police." There was something ghastly in the effort toward playfulness. A moment later, Inspector Burke entered the room. "Oh, you're here, too," he said, as his eyes fell on Dick. "That's good. I wanted to see you, too." Inspector Burke was, in fact, much concerned over the situation that had developed. He was a man of undoubted ability, and he took a keen professional pride in his work. He possessed the faults of his class, was not too scrupulous where he saw a safe opportunity to make a snug sum of money through the employment of his official authority, was ready to buckle to those whose influence could help or hinder his ambition. But, in spite of these ordinary defects, he was fond of his work and wishful to excel in it. Thus, Mary Turner had come to be a thorn in his side. She flouted his authority and sustained her incredible effrontery by a restraining order from the court. The thing was outrageous to him, and he set himself to match her cunning. The fact that she had involved Dick Gilder within her toils made him the more anxious to overcome her in the strife of resources between them. After much studying, he had at last planned something that, while it would not directly touch Mary herself, would at least serve to intimidate her, and as well make further action easier against her. It was in pursuit of this scheme that he now came to Gilder's house, and the presence of the young man abruptly gave him another idea that might benefit him well. So, he disregarded Gilder's greeting, and went on speaking to the son. "She's skipped!" he said, triumphantly. Dick made a step forward. His eyes flashed, and there was anger in his voice as he replied: "I don't believe it." The Inspector smiled, unperturbed. "She left this morning for Chicago," he said, lying with a manner that long habit rendered altogether convincing. "I told you she'd go." He turned to the father, and spoke with an air of boastful good nature. "Now, all you have to do is to get this boy out of the scrape and you'll be all right." "If we only could!" The cry came with deepest earnestness from the lips of Gilder, but there was little hope in his voice. The Inspector, however, was confident of success, and his tones rang cheerfully as he answered: "I guess we can find a way to have the marriage annulled, or whatever they do to marriages that don't take." The brutal assurance of the man in thus referring to things that were sacred, moved Dick to wrath. "Don't you interfere," he said. His words were spoken softly, but tensely. Nevertheless, Burke held to the topic, but an indefinable change in his manner rendered it less offensive to the young man. "Interfere! Huh!" he ejaculated, grinning broadly. "Why, that's what I'm paid to do. Listen to me, son. The minute you begin mixing up with crooks, you ain't in a position to give orders to any one. The crooks have got no rights in the eyes of the police. Just remember that." The Inspector spoke the simple truth as he knew it from years of experience. The theory of the law is that a presumption of innocence exists until the accused is proven guilty. But the police are out of sympathy with such finical methods. With them, the crook is presumed guilty at the outset of whatever may be charged against him. If need be, there will be proof a-plenty against him--of the sort that the underworld knows to its sorrow. But Dick was not listening. His thoughts were again wholly with the woman he loved, who, as the Inspector declared, had fled from him. "Where's she gone in Chicago?" Burke answered in his usual gruff fashion, but with a note of kindliness that was not without its effect on Dick. "I'm no mind-reader," he said. "But she's a swell little girl, all right. I've got to hand it to her for that. So, she'll probably stop at the Blackstone--that is, until the Chicago police are tipped off that she is in town." Of a sudden, the face of the young man took on a totally different expression. Where before had been anger, now was a vivid eagerness. He went close to the Inspector, and spoke with intense seriousness. "Burke," he said, pleadingly, "give me a chance. I'll leave for Chicago in the morning. Give me twenty-four hours start before you begin hounding her." The Inspector regarded the speaker searchingly. His heavy face was drawn in an expression of apparent doubt. Abruptly, then, he smiled acquiescence. "Seems reasonable," he admitted. But the father strode to his son. "No, no, Dick," he cried. "You shall not go! You shall not go!" Burke, however, shook his head in remonstrance against Gilder's plea. His huge voice came booming, weightily impressive. "Why not?" he questioned. "It's a fair gamble. And, besides, I like the boy's nerve." Dick seized on the admission eagerly. "And you'll agree?" he cried. "Yes, I'll agree," the Inspector answered. "Thank you," Dick said quietly. But the father was not content. On the contrary, he went toward the two hurriedly, with a gesture of reproval. "You shall not go, Dick," he declared, imperiously. The Inspector shot a word of warning to Gilder in an aside that Dick could not hear. "Keep still," he replied. "It's all right." Dick went on speaking with a seriousness suited to the magnitude of his interests. "You give me your word, Inspector," he said, "that you won't notify the police in Chicago until I've been there twenty-four hours?" "You're on," Burke replied genially. "They won't get a whisper out of me until the time is up." He swung about to face the father, and there was a complete change in his manner. "Now, then, Mr. Gilder," he said briskly, "I want to talk to you about another little matter----" Dick caught the suggestion, and interrupted quickly. "Then I'll go." He smiled rather wanly at his father. "You know, Dad, I'm sorry, but I've got to do what I think is the right thing." Burke helped to save the situation from the growing tenseness. "Sure," he cried heartily; "sure you have. That's the best any of us can do." He watched keenly as the young man went out of the room. It was not until the door was closed after Dick that he spoke. Then he dropped to a seat on the couch, and proceeded to make his confidences to the magnate. "He'll go to Chicago in the morning, you think, don't you?" "Certainly," Gilder answered. "But I don't like it." Burke slapped his leg with an enthusiasm that might have broken a weaker member. "Best thing that could have happened!" he vociferated. And then, as Gilder regarded him in astonishment, he added, chuckling: "You see, he won't find her there." "Why do you think that?" Gilder demanded, greatly puzzled. Burke permitted himself the luxury of laughing appreciatively a moment more before making his exclamation. Then he said quietly: "Because she didn't go there." "Where did she go, then?" Gilder queried wholly at a loss. Once again the officer chuckled. It was evident that he was well pleased with his own ingenuity. "Nowhere yet," he said at last. "But, just about the time he's starting for the West I'll have her down at Headquarters. Demarest will have her indicted before noon. She'll go for trial in the afternoon. And to-morrow night she'll be sleeping up the river.... That's where she is going." Gilder stood motionless for a moment. After all, he was an ordinary citizen, quite unfamiliar with the recondite methods familiar to the police. "But," he said, wonderingly, "you can't do that." The Inspector laughed, a laugh of disingenuous amusement, for he understood perfectly the lack of comprehension on the part of his hearer. "Well," he said, and his voice sank into a modest rumble that was none the less still thunderous. "Perhaps I can't!" And then he beamed broadly, his whole face smiling blandly on the man who doubted his power. "Perhaps I can't," he repeated. Then the chuckle came again, and he added emphatically: "But I will!" Suddenly, his heavy face grew hard. His alert eyes shone fiercely, with a flash of fire that was known to every patrolman who had ever reported to the desk when he was lieutenant. His heavy jaw shot forward aggressively as he spoke. "Think I'm going to let that girl make a joke of the Police Department? Why, I'm here to get her--to stop her anyhow. Her gang is going to break into your house to-night." "What?" Gilder demanded. "You mean, she's coming here as a thief?" "Not exactly," Inspector Burke confessed, "but her pals are coming to try to pull off something right here. She wouldn't come, not if I know her. She's too clever for that. Why, if she knew what Garson was planning to do, she'd stop him." The Inspector paused suddenly. For a long minute his face was seamed with thought. Then, he smote his thigh with a blow strong enough to kill an ox. His face was radiant. "By God! I've got her!" he cried. The inspiration for which he had longed was his at last. He went to the desk where the telephone was, and took up the receiver. "Give me 3100 Spring," he said. As he waited for the connection he smiled widely on the astonished Gilder. "'Tain't too late," he said joyously. "I must have been losing my mind not to have thought of it before." The impact of sounds on his ear from the receiver set him to attention. "Headquarters?" he called. "Inspector Burke speaking. Who's in my office? I want him quick." He smiled as he listened, and he spoke again to Gilder. "It's Smith, the best man I have. That's luck, if you ask me." Then again he spoke into the mouthpiece of the telephone. "Oh, Ed, send some one up to that Turner woman. You have the address. Just see that she is tipped off, that Joe Garson and some pals are going to break into Edward Gilder's house to-night. Get some stool-pigeon to hand her the information. You'd better get to work damned quick. Understand?" The Inspector pulled out that watch of which Aggie Lynch had spoken so avariciously, and glanced at it, then went on speaking: "It's ten-thirty now. She went to the Lyric Theater with some woman. Get her as she leaves, or find her back at her own place later. You'll have to hustle, anyhow. That's all!" The Inspector hung up the receiver and faced his host with a contented smile. "What good will all that do?" Gilder demanded, impatiently. Burke explained with a satisfaction natural to one who had devised something ingenious and adequate. This inspiration filled him with delight. At last he was sure of catching Mary Turner herself in his toils. "She'll come to stop 'em," he said. "When we get the rest of the gang, we'll grab her, too. Why, I almost forgot her, thinking about Garson. Mr. Gilder, you would hardly believe it, but there's scarcely been a real bit of forgery worth while done in this country for the last twenty years, that Garson hasn't been mixed up in. We've never once got him right in all that time." The Inspector paused to chuckle. "Crooks are funny," he explained with obvious contentment. "Clever as he is, Garson let Griggs talk him into a second-story job, and now we'll get him with the goods.... Just call your man for a minute, will you, Mr. Gilder?" Gilder pressed the electric button on his desk. At the same moment, through the octagonal window came a blinding flash of light that rested for seconds, then vanished. Burke, by no means a nervous man, nevertheless was startled by the mysterious radiance. "What's that?" he demanded, sharply. "It's the flashlight from the Metropolitan Tower," Gilder explained with a smile over the policeman's perturbation. "It swings around this way about every fifteen minutes. The servant forgot to draw the curtains." As he spoke, he went to the window, and pulled the heavy draperies close. "It won't bother us again." The entrance of the butler brought the Inspector's thoughts back to the matter in hand. "My man," he said, authoritatively, "I want you to go up to the roof and open the scuttle. You'll find some men waiting up there. Bring 'em down here." The servant's usually impassive face showed astonishment, not unmixed with dismay, and he looked doubtfully toward his master, who nodded reassuringly. "Oh, they won't hurt you," the Inspector declared, as he noticed the man's hesitation. "They're police officers. You get 'em down here, and then you go to bed and stay there till morning. Understand?" Again, the butler looked at his master for guidance in this very peculiar affair, as he deemed it. Receiving another nod, he said: "Very well, sir." He regarded the Inspector with a certain helpless indignation over this disturbance of the natural order, and left the room. Gilder himself was puzzled over the situation, which was by no means clear to him. "How do you know they're going to break into the house to-night?" he demanded of Burke; "or do you only think they're going to break into the house?" "I know they are." The Inspector's harsh voice brought out the words boastfully. "I fixed it." "You did!" There was wonder in the magnate's exclamation. "Sure," Burke declared complacently, "did it through a stool-pigeon." "Oh, an informer," Gilder interrupted, a little doubtfully. "Yes," Burke agreed. "Stool-pigeon is the police name for him. Really, he's the vilest thing that crawls." "But, if you think that," Gilder expostulated, "why do you have anything to do with that sort of person?" "Because it's good business," the Inspector replied. "We know he's a spy and a traitor, and that every time he comes near us we ought to use a disinfectant. But we deal with him just the same--because we have to. Now, the stool-pigeon in this trick is a swell English crook. He went to Garson yesterday with a scheme to rob your house. He tried out Mary Turner, too, but she wouldn't stand for it--said it would break the law, which is contrary to her principles. She told Garson to leave it alone. But he met Griggs afterward without her knowing anything about it, and then he agreed to pull it off. Griggs got word to me that it's coming off to-night. And so, you see, Mr. Gilder, that's how I know. Do you get me?" "I see," Gilder admitted without any enthusiasm. As a matter of fact, he felt somewhat offended that his house should be thus summarily seized as a trap for criminals. "But why do you have your men come down over the roof?" he inquired curiously. "It wasn't safe to bring them in the front way," was the Inspector's prompt reply. "It's a cinch the house is being watched. I wish you would let me have your latch-key. I want to come back, and make this collar myself." The owner of the house obediently took the desired key from his ring and gave it to the Inspector with a shrug of resignation. "But, why not stay, now that you are here?" he asked. "Huh!" Burke retorted. "Suppose some of them saw me come in? There wouldn't be anything doing until after they see me go out again." The hall door opened and the butler reentered the room. Behind him came Cassidy and two other detectives in plain clothes. At a word from his master, the disturbed Thomas withdrew with the intention of obeying the Inspector's directions that he should retire to bed and stay there, carefully avoiding whatever possibilities of peril there might be in the situation so foreign to his ideals of propriety. "Now," Burke went on briskly, as the door closed behind the servant, "where could these men stay out of sight until they're needed?" There followed a little discussion which ended in the selection of a store-room at the end of the passage on the ground floor, on which one of the library doors opened. "You see," Burke explained to Gilder, when this matter had been settled to his satisfaction, and while Cassidy and the other detectives were out of the library on a tour of inspection, "you must have things right, when it comes to catching crooks on a frame-up like this. I had these men come to Number Twenty-six on the other street, then round the block on the roofs." Gilder nodded appreciation which was not actually sincere. It seemed to him that such elaborate manoeuvering was, in truth, rather absurd. "And now, Mr. Gilder," the Inspector said energetically, "I'm going to give you the same tip I gave your man. Go to bed, and stay there." "But the boy," Gilder protested. "What about him? He's the one thing of importance to me." "If he says anything more about going to Chicago--just you let him go, that's all! It's the best place for him for the next few days. I'll get in touch with you in the morning and let you know then how things are coming out." Gilder sighed resignedly. His heavy face was lined with anxiety. There was a hesitation in his manner of speech that was wholly unlike its usual quick decisiveness. "I don't like this sort of thing," he said, doubtfully. "I let you go ahead because I can't suggest any alternative, but I don't like it, not at all. It seems to me that other methods might be employed with excellent results without the element of treachery which seems to involve me as well as you in our efforts to overcome this woman." Burke, however, had no qualms as to such plotting. "You must have crooked ways to catch crooks, believe me," he said cheerfully. "It's the easiest and quickest way out of the trouble for us, and the easiest and quickest way into trouble for them." The return of the detectives caused him to break off, and he gave his attention to the final arrangements of his men. "You're in charge here," he said to Cassidy, "and I hold you responsible. Now, listen to this, and get it." His coarse voice came with a grating note of command. "I'm coming back to get this bunch myself, and I'll call you when you're wanted. You'll wait in the store-room out there and don't make a move till you hear from me, unless by any chance things go wrong and you get a call from Griggs. You know who he is. He's got a whistle, and he'll use it if necessary.... Got that straight?" And, when Cassidy had declared an entire understanding of the directions given, he concluded concisely. "On your way, then!" As the men left the room, he turned again to Gilder. "Just one thing more," he said. "I'll have to have your help a little longer. After I've gone, I want you to stay up for a half-hour anyhow, with the lights burning. Do you see? I want to be sure to give the Turner woman time to get here while that gang is at work. Your keeping on the lights will hold them back, for they won't come in till the house is dark, so, in half an hour you can get off the job, switch off the lights and go to bed and stay there--just as I told you before." Then Inspector Burke, having in mind the great distress of the man over the unfortunate entanglement of his son, was at pains to offer a reassuring word. "Don't worry about the boy," he said, with grave kindliness. "We'll get him out of this scrape all right." And with the assertion he bustled out, leaving the unhappy father to miserable forebodings. _ |
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