The Poisoned Pen(Fiscle Part-3) by Arthur B. Reeve (top 10 motivational books .txt) 📕

Again Before The Commuters Had Started To Go To New York,  And That

In Spite Of The Fact That We Had Stopped At His Laboratory On The

Way And Had Got A Package Which He Carried Carefully.

Kennedy Instituted A Most Thorough Search Of The House From Cellar

To Attic In Daylight. What He Expected To Find,  I Did Not Know,

But I Am Quite Sure Nothing Escaped Him.

"Now,  Walter," He Said After He Had Ransacked The House,  "There

Remains Just One Place. Here Is This Little Wall Safe In Mrs.

Branford's Room. We Must Open It."

For An Hour If Not Longer He Worked Over The Combination,

Listening To The Fall Of The Tumblers In The Lock. It Was A Simple

Little Thing And One Of The Old-Timers In The Industry Would No

Doubt Have Opened It In Short Order. The Perspiration Stood Out On

His Forehead,  So Intent Was He In Working The Thing. At Last It

Yielded. Except For Some Of The Family Silver,  The Safe Was Empty.

Carefully Noting How The Light Shone On The Wall Safe,  Craig

Unwrapped The Package He Had Brought And Disclosed A Camera. He

Placed It On A Writing-Desk Opposite The Safe,  In Such A Way That

It Was Not At All Conspicuous,  And Focused It On The Safe.

"This Is A Camera With A Newly-Invented Between-Lens Shutter Of

Great Illumination And Efficiency," He Explained. "It Has Always

Been Practically Impossible To Get Such Pictures,  But This New

Shutter Has So Much Greater Speed Than Anything Ever Invented

Before That It Is Possible To Use It In Detective Work. I'll Just

Run These Fine Wires Like A Burglar Alarm,  Only Instead Of Having

An Alarm I'll Attach Them To The Camera So That We Can Get A

Picture. I've Proved Its Speed Up To One Two-Thousandth Of A

Second. It May Or It May Not Work. If It Does We'll Catch

Somebody,  Right In The Act."

About Noon We Went Down To Liberty Street,  Home Of Burglary

Insurance. I Don't Think Blake Liked It Very Much Because Kennedy

Insisted On Playing The Lone Hand,  But He Said Nothing,  For It Was

Part Of The Agreement. Maloney Seemed Rather Glad Than Otherwise.

He Had Been Combing Out Some Tangled Clues Of His Own About Mrs.

Branford. Still,  Kennedy Smoothed Things Over By Complimenting The

Detective On His Activity,  And Indeed He Had Shown Remarkable

Ability In The First Place In Locating Mrs. Branford.

"I Started Out With The Assumption That The Branfords Must Have

Needed Money For Some Reason Or Other," Said Maloney. "So I Went

To The Commercial Agencies To-Day And Looked Up Branford. I Can't

Say He Has Been Prosperous; Nobody Has Been In Wall Street These

Days,  And That's Just The Thing That Causes An Increase In Fake

Burglaries. Then There Is Another Possibility," He Continued

Triumphantly. "I Had A Man Up At The Grattan Inn,  And He Reports

To Me That Mrs. Stanford Was Seen With The Actor Jack Delarue Last

Night,  I Imagine They Quarrelled,  For She Returned Alone,  Much

Agitated,  In A Taxi-Cab. Any Way You Look At It,  The Clues Are

Promising--Whether She Needed Money For Branford's Speculations Or

For The Financing Of That Rake Delarue."

Maloney Regarded Craig With The Air Of An Expert Who Could Afford

To Patronise A Good Amateur--But After All An Amateur. Kennedy

Said Nothing,  And Of Course I Took The Cue.

"Yes," Agreed Blake,  "You See,  Our Original Hypothesis Was A

Pretty Good One. Meanwhile,  Of Course,  The Police Are Floundering

Around In A Bog Of False Scents."

"It Would Make Our Case A Good Deal Stronger," Remarked Kennedy

Quietly,  "If We Could Discover Some Of The Stolen Jewellery Hidden

Somewhere By Mrs. Branford Herself." He Said Nothing Of His Own

Unsuccessful Search Through The House,  But Continued: "What Do You

Suppose She Has Done With The Jewels? She Must Have Put Them

Somewhere Before She Got The Yeggman To Break The Safe. She'd

Hardly Trust Them In His Hands. But She Might Have Been Foolish

Enough For That. Of Course It's Another Possibility That He Really

Got Away With Them. I Doubt If She Has Them At Grattan Inn,  Or

Even If She Would Personally Put Them In A Safe Deposit Vault.

Perhaps Delarue Figures In That End Of It. We Must Let No Stone Go

Unturned."

"That's Right," Meditated Maloney,  Apparently Turning Something

Over In His Mind As If It Were A New Idea. "If We Only Had Some

Evidence,  Even Part Of The Jewels That She Had Hidden,  It Would

Clinch The Case. That's A Good Idea,  Kennedy."

Craig Said Nothing,  But I Could See,  Or Fancied I Saw,  That He Was

Gratified At The Thought That He Had Started Maloney Off On

Another Trail,  Leaving Us To Follow Ours Unhampered. The Interview

With Blake Was Soon Over,  And As We Left I Looked Inquiringly At

Craig.

"I Want To See Mrs. Branford Again," He Said. "I Think We Can Do

Better Alone Today Than We Did Last Night."

I Must Say I Half Expected That She Would Refuse To See Us And Was

Quite Surprised When The Page Returned With The Request That We Go

Up To Her Suite. It Was Evident That Her Attitude Toward Us Was

Very Different From That Of The First Interview. Whether She Was

Ruffled By The Official Presence Of Blake Or The Officious

Presence Of Maloney,  She Was At Least Politely Tolerant Of Us. Or

Was It That She At Last Began To Realise That The Toils Were

Closing About Her And That Things Began To Look Unmistakably

Black?

Kennedy Was Quick To See His Advantage. "Mrs. Branford," He Began,

"Since Last Night I Have Come Into The Possession Of Some Facts

That Are Very Important. I Have Heard That Several Loose Pearls

Which May Or May Not Be Yours Have Been Offered For Sale By A Man

On The Bowery Who Is What The Yeggmen Call A 'Fence.'"

"Yeggmen--'Fence'?" She Repeated. "Mr. Kennedy,  Really I Do Not

Care To Discuss The Pearls Any Longer. It Is Immaterial To Me What

Becomes Of Them. My First Desire Is To Collect The Insurance. If

Anything Is Recovered I Am Quite Willing To Deduct That Amount

From The Total. But I Must Insist On The Full Insurance Or The

Return Of The Pearls. As Soon As Mr. Branford Arrives I Shall Take

Other Steps To Secure Redress."

A Boy Rapped At The Door And Brought In A Telegram Which She Tore

Open Nervously. "He Will Be Here In Four Days," She Said,  Tearing

The Telegram Petulantly,  And Not At All As If She Were Glad To

Receive It. "Is There Anything Else That You Wish To Say?"

She Was Tapping Her Foot On The Rug As If Anxious To Conclude The

Interview. Kennedy Leaned Forward Earnestly And Played His Trump

Card Boldly.

"Do You Remember That Scene In 'The Grass Widower,'" He Said

Slowly,  "Where Jack Delarue Meets His Runaway Wife At The

Masquerade Ball?"

She Coloured Slightly,  But Instantly Regained Her Composure.

"Vaguely," She Murmured,  Toying With The Flowers In Her Dress.

"In Real Life," Said Kennedy,  His Voice Purposely Betraying That

He Meant It To Have A Personal Application,  "Husbands Do Not

Forgive Even Rumours Of--Ah--Shall We Say Affinities?--Much Less

The Fact."

"In Real Life," She Replied,  "Wives Do Not Have Affinities As

Often As Some Newspapers And Plays Would Have Us Believe." "I Saw

Delarue After The Performance Last Night," Went On Kennedy

Inexorably. "I Was Not Seen,  But I Saw,  And He Was With----"

She Was Pacing The Room Now In Unsuppressed Excitement. "Will You

Never Stop Spying On Me?" She Cried. "Must My Every Act Be Watched

And Misrepresented? I Suppose A Distorted Version Of The Facts

Will Be Given To My Husband. Have You No Chivalry,  Or Justice,  Or-

-Or Mercy?" She Pleaded,  Stopping In Front Of Kennedy.

"Mrs. Branford," He Replied Coldly,  "I Cannot Promise What I Shall

Do. My Duty Is Simply To Get At The Truth About The Pearls. If It

Involves Some Other Person,  It Is Still My Duty To Get At The

Truth. Why Not Tell Me All That You Really Know About The Pearls

And Trust Me To Bring It Out All Right?"

She Faced Him,  Pale And Haggard. "I Have Told," She Repeated

Steadily. "I Cannot Tell Any More--I Know Nothing More."

Was She Lying? I Was Not Expert Enough In Feminine Psychology To

Judge,  But Down In My Heart I Knew That The Woman Was Hiding

Something Behind That Forced Steadiness. What Was It She Was

Battling For? We Had Reached An Impasse.

It Was After Dinner When I Met Craig At The Laboratory. He Had

Made A Trip To Montclair Again,  Where His Stay Had Been Protracted

Because Maloney Was There And He Wished To Avoid Him. He Had

Brought Back The Camera,  And Had Had Another Talk With O'connor,

At Which He Had Mapped Out A Plan Of Battle.

"We Are To Meet The Gay Cat At The City Hall At Nine O'clock,"

Explained Craig Laconically. "We Are Going To Visit A Haunt Of

Yeggmen,  Walter,  That Few Outsiders Have Ever Seen. Are You Game?

O'connor And His Men Will Be Close By--Hiding,  Of Course."

"I Suppose So," I Replied Slowly. "But What Excuse Are You Going

To Have For Getting Into This Yegg-Resort?"

"Simply That We Are Two Newspaper Men Looking For An Article,

Without Names,  Dates,  Or Places--Just A Good Story Of Yeggmen And

Tramps. I've Got A Little--Well,  We'll Call It A Little Camera

Outfit That I'm Going To Sling Over My Shoulder. You Are The

Reporter,  Remember,  And I'm The Newspaper Photographer. They Won't

Pose For Us,  Of Course,  But That Will Be All Right. Speaking About

Photographs,  I Got One Out At Montclair That Is Interesting. I'll

Show It To You Later In The Evening--And In Case Anything Should

Happen To Me,  Walter,  You'll Find The Original Plate Locked Here

In The Top Drawer Of My Desk. I Guess We'd Better Be Getting

Downtown."

The House To Which We Were Guided By The Gay Cat Was On A Cross

Street Within A Block Or Two Of Chatham Square. If We Had Passed

It Casually In The Daytime There Would Have Been Nothing To

Distinguish It Above The Other Ramshackle Buildings On The Street,

Except That The Other Houses Were Cluttered With Children And

Baby-Carriages,  While This One Was Vacant,  The Front Door Closed,

And The Blinds Tightly Drawn. As We Approached,  A Furtive Figure

Shambled