Detective Fiction Weekly. Vol. 118, No. 6, April 16, 1938
- Автор: Трит Лоуренс, Вулрич Корнелл
- Год: 1938
- Язык: английский
- Год: The Red Star News Company
- Жанр: Другие детективы
Электронная книга - «Detective Fiction Weekly. Vol. 118, No. 6, April 16, 1938». Краткое содержание книги:
“I’m sorry,” I grumbled.
Randall was talking to Grant. “I want to thank you,” he was saying. He held out his hand and Grant took it. “You can never know what this means to me. If you’re a father, you can understand. But you’ll be well paid. I offered a reward, five thousand dollars, and you and your friend will get that.”
“You can pay him out of that satchel beside the davenport,” I said. “He wanted all of it, but I guess now he’ll be satisfied with a small cut.”
Jordan jumped up, ran around and picked up the satchel. “This is it,” he said. Then he looked at me. “What do you mean, he wanted all of it?”
I stared back at him and laughed. “You’re a G-man,” I said, “and you’re letting Grant make a fool of you. He and his pal Mercer are the ones who kidnaped the Randall boy.”
Jordan took something out of his inside pocket and looked at it. “You’re Bob Ellison, aren’t you?” he said.
“That’s right.”
“Then you collected the ransom, didn’t you?”
“You’re still right.”
“Well, then, what are you talking about?”
I leaned forward and looked him in the eye. “Just this. I was tricked into collecting the ransom, I didn’t have anything to do with the kidnaping and I can prove it. As soon as I found out what I’d got mixed in with, I started out to find the kidnapers. That is, Millie and I did. And we found them. They’re right in this room and they’re trying to make you think they’re heroes. I’m talking about Mr. Grant and his friend Mercer.”
“You say you caught them. You can’t expect us to believe that. After all, the evidence shows they caught you.”
“I’m not worrying about the evidence,” I said. “Before very long you’ll have proof that neither this girl nor I had anything to do with the kidnaping. And you’ll know who did. All I ask is that you keep your eyes on that saintly pair.”
Jordan ran his hand over his face and stared at me.
“Just how do you expect to prove all this, Ellison?” he asked.
“The boy’s over four years old, according to the radio reports, isn’t he? He’ll be able to tell you who kidnaped him.”
I must have said the wrong thing. Randall got out of his chair. Jordan jumped up and caught his arm. “Take it easy,” he said. Randall shook him off and walked over in front of me. His cheeks were as close to being purple as any cheeks I’d ever seen.
“You filthy rat,” he shouted. “Trying to make us believe you didn’t know—”
Jordan jerked him back, but he pulled himself loose. “You knew,” he yelled, “you must have known all the time — long before you planned this thing — you must have known my son is — my poor little boy — is blind!”
V
The whole world seemed to slip from under my feet. I snapped my head up and looked at him. “He’s what?”
Randall’s eyes were wild. “You’re putting on an act,” he almost screamed. “The boy is blind. He was born blind. That’s why you picked on him. And, by heaven, you’re going to hang for it.”
I looked at Millie. “Did you know?”
Her face was a sickly white. She shook her head. “He was asleep most of the time I was with him. I didn’t even guess.”
Through sort of a mist I saw the six men sitting around the table looking at us. At the left was Jordan, who still held the automatic loosely in his hand. Next was his G-man partner. Then came Grant and Mercer and, closest to where we were sitting on the davenport with our hands tied behind us, Randall and the doctor.
Grant had a kind of sneering smile on his face and Randall still looked like he was just this side of apoplexy.
“I guess we’re sunk then,” I said. “At least I am. What do they do to you now for kidnaping, Jordan?”
He stared at me. “The boy was taken across state lines,” he said finally. “That puts it under the Lindbergh law and that can mean the death penalty. And to the federal government, there’s only one form of execution — hanging by the neck until you are dead.”
“No!” Millie cried. “They can’t do that to him. He’s innocent, I tell you. He’s telling the truth and you’re so stupid you can’t see it.”
“That’s enough,” Jordan said sharply.
“Yeah,” I muttered, “cut it out, Millie. It won’t do any good.” I felt like all the strength had oozed from my body. “They won’t believe me and I guess a jury won’t either.”
“Anybody who kidnaps a blind boy — and he must be a pretty sick kid, too, right now — can’t expect mercy from a jury,” said Jordan. He got up, laid his gun on the table, and came over to me. “I’m going to see what you’ve got in your pockets.”
He didn’t find so very much. The packet of fives, an empty billfold, a dirty handkerchief, the crumpled piece of paper Millie had thrown at me, three one-dollar bills, some change and half a century note.
“What’s this?” he asked, straightening out the piece of paper that said, “Be careful. Don’t come upstairs.”
“That’s a little warning Millie gave me. It’s part of a long story, but you wouldn’t believe it.”
“And this piece of a hundred dollar bill,” he went on. “You seem to have a habit of tearing up money.” He grinned. “Maybe we can get you for mutilating currency.”
“What you mean, a habit?”
He laughed. “So you don’t know? When you pulled the kidnaping you left a piece of a dollar bill in the Randall yard. We figured that was for identification and it was. The envelope you gave the pawnbroker had another piece of the same bill. But there was still another piece of the bill that you kept. You probably thought you’d use that to get some more ransom. Only—” he paused and frowned. “Only that piece of the bill should be on you and it isn’t. I guess you’ve swallowed it.”
I sat up straight, jerking my arms behind my back because I wanted to wave my hands.
“I didn’t swallow it,” I said, trying to hold his eye. “It isn’t on me because I never had it. But I think I can tell you where it is.”
He rubbed his chin with the fingers of his left hand. “So you do know something about this case. Go ahead. Where is it?”
“I’ve been trying to tell you that the men you want are Grant and Mercer and you won’t listen. Now if you found that piece of money on one of them you’d start to believe me, wouldn’t you?”
“Sure, but—”
“Well, why don’t you search them? Or do you think heroes shouldn’t be searched?”
Jordan looked disappointed. “This sounds like a stall. I thought you were getting ready to tell something.”
I stamped my feet on the floor. I had to do something and I couldn’t use my hands. “For the love of Pete,” I burst out, “I’ve told you plenty, but you’re too dumb to do anything about it. Go ahead and search them, they won’t bite you.”
Jordan looked at Grant. “Would you gentlemen object? Just to prove he’s talking through his hat?”
Grant shrugged. “Not at all. It’s just part of his game, we haven’t anything to hide.”
Jordan’s partner went through Mercer’s pockets first. He found the usual things, a billfold with about forty dollars and identification cards, some small change, keys and a pocket knife and so forth.
Then he went through Grant’s pockets with pretty much the same result, only this time the exhibits included a fountain pen and a letter from a novelty concern that said something about the sales quota being raised. When Grant’s things were all spread out on the table, Jordan looked at me.
“There you are,” he said.
“Yeah, that proves a Jot,” I came back. “That little hunk of a dollar bill would be awful hard to hide, wouldn’t it? You’d be sure to find it at a glance, wouldn’t you? If you’d turn me loose I het I’d find it on one of them.”