by Sewell Ford
CHAPTER XII
TORCHY MEETS ELLERY BEAN
Course, I was sayin' it mostly to kid Vee along. I expect I'm nearly asstrong for this suburban life stuff as she is, but whenever she gets abit gushy about it, which she's apt to such nights as we've been havin'recent, with the moon full and the summer strikin' its first stride, I'mapt to let on that I feel different.
You see, she'd towed me out on the back terrace to smell how sweet thehoneysuckle was and watch the moon sail up over the tall locust treesbeyond the vegetable garden.
"Isn't it a perfectly gorgeous night, Torchy?" says she. "And doesn'teverything look so calm and peaceful out here?"
"May look that way," says I, "but you never can tell. I like the countryin the daytime all right, but at night, especially these moonyones,--Well, I don't know as I'll ever get used to 'em."
"How absurd, Torchy!" says Vee.
"Makes things look so kind of spooky," I goes on. "All them shadows. Howdo you know what's behind 'em? And so many queer noises. There! Listento that!"
"Silly!" says she. "That's a tree-toad. I hope you aren't afraid ofthat."
"Not if he's a tame one," says I. "But how can you tell he ain't wild?And there comes a whirry-buzzin' noise."
"Yes," says she. "A motor coming down the macadam. There, it's turnedinto our road! Perhaps someone coming to see us, Goosie."
Sure enough, it was. A minute later Mr. and Mrs. Robert Ellins weregivin' us the hail out front. It seems they'd come to pick us up to makea call with them on some new neighbors.
"Who?" asks Vee.
"You couldn't guess," says Mrs. Robert. "The Zoscos."
"Really!" says Vee. "I thought they were----"
"Yes," chimes in Mrs. Robert, "I suppose they are, too. Ratherimpossible. But I simply must try that big pipe organ I hear they've putin. Bob thinks it's an awful thing to do. See how shocked he looks. ButI've promised not to stay more than half an hour if the movie magnate isin anything more startling than a placid after-dinner state, or if theplace is cluttered up with too many screen favorites. And I think Bobwants Torchy to go along as bodyguard. So won't you both come? What doyou say?"
Trust Vee for takin' a dare. She'll try anything once. I expect she'dbeen some curious all along to see what this new Mrs. Zosco lookedlike. "What was it you said she used to be called, Torchy?" she demands.
"'Myrtle Mapes, the Girl With the Million Dollar Smile,' was the way shewas billed," says I. "But them press agents don't care what they sayhalf the time. And maybe she only smiles that way when the camera's setfor a close-up."
"I don't care," says Vee. "I think it would be great fun to go."
As for me, I didn't mind, one way or the other. I'd seen this AndresZosco party plenty of times, ridin' back and forth on the train. He'deven offered to pick me up in his limousine and give me a lift once whenI was hikin' up from the station. And I must say he wasn't just my ideaof a plute movie producer.
Nothin' imposin' about Mr. Zosco. Hardly. Kind of a dumpy, short-leggedparty, with a round smooth face, sort of mild brown eyes, and his hairworn in a skinned diamond effect. You'd never take him for a guy who'dgo out and buy a Hudson River steamer and blow it up just for the sakeof gettin' a thousand feet of film, or put on a mob scene with enoughpeople to fill Times Square like an election night. No. He was usuallyreadin' seed catalogues and munchin' salted peanuts out of a paper bag.
It was early last spring that he'd bought this Villa Nova place, a mileor so beyond the Ellinses, and moved out with the bride he'd picked outof his list of screen stars. I don't know whether he expected the PipingRock crowd to fall for him or not. Anyway, they didn't. They justshuddered when his name was mentioned and stayed away from Villa Novasame as they had when that Duluth copper plute, who'd built the freaknear-Moorish affair, tried the same act. But it didn't look like theZoscos meant to be frozen out so easy. After being lonesome for a monthor so they begun fillin' their 20 odd bedrooms with guests of their ownchoosin'. Course, some of 'em that I saw arrivin' looked a bit rummy,but it was plain the Zoscos didn't intend to bank on the neighbors forcompany. Maybe they didn't want us crashin' in either, as Mr. Robertsuggests.
You couldn't worry Mrs. Robert with hints like that, though. She's agood mixer. Besides, if she'd made up her mind to play that new pipeorgan you could pretty near bet she'd do it. So inside of three minutesshe had us loaded into the car and off we rolls to surprise the Zoscos.
Villa Nova, you know, is perched on the top of quite a sizable hill,with a private road windin' up from the Pike. As you swing in you passan odd-shaped vine-covered affair that I suppose was meant for agate-keeper's lodge, though it looks like a stucco tower that had beendropped off some storage warehouse.
Well, we'd just made the turn and Mr. Robert had gone into second totake the grade when I gets a glimpse of somebody doin' a hasty duck intothe shrubbery; a slim, skinny party with a plaid cap pulled down overhis eyes so far that his ears stuck out on either side like young wings.What struck me as kind of odd, though, was his jumpin' away from thedoor of the lodge as the car swung in and the fact that he had a basketcovered with a white cloth.
"Huh!" says I, more or less to myself.
"What's the matter?" asks Vee. "Seeing things in the moonlight?"
"Thought I did," says I. "Didn't you, there by the gate!"
"Oh, yes," says she. "Some lilac bushes."
And not being any too sure of just what I had seen I let it ride atthat. Besides, there wasn't time for any lengthy debate. Next thing Iknew we'd pulled up under the porte cochere and was pilin' out. We findsthe big double doors wide open and the pink marble entrance hall all litup brilliant. Grouped in the middle of it, in front of a fountain bankedwith ferns, are about a dozen people who seem to be chatterin' awayearnest and excited.
"Why, how odd!" says Mrs. Robert, hesitatin' with her thumb on the bellbutton.
"Looks like a fam'ly caucus," says I. "Maybe they heard we were comingand are taking a vote to see whether they let us in or bar us out."
I could make out Andres Zosco in the center of the bunch wearin' asilk-faced dinner coat and chewin' nervous on a fat black cigar. Also Icould guess that the tall chemical blonde at his right must be thecelebrated Myrtle Mapes that used to smile on us from so manybillboards. To the left was a huge billowy female decorated generouswith pearl ropes and ear pendants. Then there was a funny little old guyin a cutaway and a purple tie, a couple of squatty, full-chested womendressed as fancy as a pair of plush sofas, a maid or so, and a pie-facedscared-lookin' gink that it was easy to guess must be the butler.Everybody had been so busy talkin' that they hadn't heard us swarm upthe steps.
"I say," whispers Mr. Robert, "hadn't we better call it off?"
"And never know what is going on?" protests Vee. "Certainly not. I'mgoing to knock." Which she does.
"There!" says I. "You've touched off the panic."
For a minute it looked like she had, too, for most of 'em jumpsstartled, or clutches each other by the arm. Then they sort of surgestowards the doorway, Zosco in the lead.
I expect he must have recognized some of us for he indulges in acackly, throaty laugh and then waves us in cordial. "Excuse me," sayshe. "I--thought it might be somebody else. Mr. Ellins, isn't it? Pleasedto meet you. Come right in, all of you."
And after we've been introduced sketchy all round Mr. Robert remarksthat he's afraid we haven't picked just the right time to pay a call."We--we are interrupting a family council or something, aren't we?" heasks.
"Oh, glad to have you," says Zosco. "It's nothing secret, and perhapsyou can help us out. We're a little upset, for a fact. It's about mybrother Jake. He's been visiting us, him and his wife, for the pastweek. Maybe you've seen him ridin' round in the limousine--short,thick-set party, good deal like me, only a few years younger."
Mr. Robert shakes his head. "Sorry," says he, "but I don't recall----"
"Oh, likely you wouldn't notice him," goes on Zosco. "Nothing fancyabout Jake, plain dresser and all t
hat. But what gets us is how he couldhave lost himself for so long."
"Lost!" echoes Mr. Robert.
"Well, he's gone, anyway," says Zosco. "Disappeared. Since after dinnerlast night and----"
"Oh, Jake, Jake!" wails the billowy female with the pearl ropes.
"There, there, Matilda!" put in Zosco. "Never mind the sob stuff now.He's all right somewhere, of course. He'll turn up in time. Bound to. Itain't as if he was some wild young sport. Steady as a church, Jake. Nobad habits to speak of. Not one of the kind to go slippin' into town ona spree. Not him. And never carries around much ready money or jewelry.No holdup men out here, anyway."
"But--but he's gone!" moans Matilda.
"Sure he is," admits Zosco. "Maybe back to Saginaw. Something might havehappened at the store. Or he might have got word that some cloak andsuit jobber was closing out his fall goods at a sacrifice and got sobusy in town making the deal that he forgot to let us know. That wouldbe Jake, all right, if he saw a chance of turnin' over a few thousands."
"Would he go bareheaded, and without his indigestion tablets?" demandsMrs. Jake.
"If it was another bargain like that lot of army raincoats, he'd go inhis pajamas," says Zosco.
But Matilda shakes her head. She's sure something awful has happened toJake. Now that she thinks it over she believes he must have hadsomething on his mind. Hadn't they noticed how restless he'd been forthe past few days? Yes, both the squatty women had. And the funny littleguy in the long-tailed cutaway brought up how Jake had quit playingbilliards with him, even after he'd offered to start him 20 up.
"But that don't mean anything," says Zosco. "Jake never could playbilliards anyway. Hates it. He's no sport at all, except maybe when itcomes to pinochle. He's all for business. Don't know how to take a realvacation like a gentleman. I'm always telling him that."
Gradually we'd all drifted into the big drawin' room, but Jake continuesto be the general topic. We couldn't help but get kind of interested inhim, too. When a middle-aged storekeeper from Saginaw gets up fromdinner, wanders out into a quiet, respectable community like ours, anddisappears like he'd dropped from a manhole or been swished off on anairplane it's enough to set you guessin'. By askin' a few questions wegot the whole life history of Jake, from the time he left Lithuania as aboy until he was last seen gettin' a light for his cigar from thebutler. We got all his habits outlined; how he always slept with acorner of the sheet over his right ear, couldn't eat strawberrieswithout breaking out in blotches, and could hardly be dragged out to seea show or go to an evening party where there were ladies. Yet here on avisit to Villa Nova he goes and strays off like he'd lost his mind, orgets himself kidnapped, or worse.
"Why," says Mr. Robert, "it sounds like a real mystery, almost a casefor a Sherlock Holmes."
I don't know why, either, but just then he glances at me. "By Jove!" hegoes on. "Here you are, Torchy. What do you make out of this?"
"Me?" says I. "Just about what you do, I expect."
"Oh, come!" says he. "Put that rapid fire brain of yours to work. Tryhim, Mr. Zosco. I've known him to unravel stranger things than this. Iwould even venture to say that he has hit on a clue while we've beentalking."
Course, a good deal of it is Mr. Robert's josh. He's always springin'that line. But Zosco, after he's looked me over keen, shrugs hisshoulders doubtful. Mrs. Jake, though, is ready to grab at anything.
"Can you find him?" she asks, starin' at me. "Will you, young man?"
Also I gets an encouragin', admirin' glance from Vee. That settles it. Iwas bound to make some sort of play after that. Besides, I did have kindof a vague hunch.
"I ain't promisin' anything," says I, "but I'll give it a whirl. Firstoff though, maybe you can tell me what youth around the place wears ablack-and-white checked cap?"
That gets a quick rise out of the former Myrtle Mapes, now Mrs. Zosco."Why--why," says she, "my brother Ellery does."
"That's so," put in Zosco. "Where is the youngster?"
"Ellery?" says Myrtle, givin' him that innocent baby-doll look. "Oh, hemust be in his room. I--I will look."
"Never mind," says I. "Probably he is. It doesn't matter. Visiting here,too, eh? How long? About two weeks. And he comes from----"
"From my old home, Shelby, North Carolina," says she. "But he isn't theone who's missing, you know."
"That's so," says I. "Gettin' off the track, wasn't I? Shows what a poorsleuth I am. And now if I can have the missing man's hat I'll do alittle scoutin' round outside."
"His hat!" grumbles Zosco. "What do you want with that?"
"Why," says I, "if I find anyone it fits it's likely to be Jake, ain'tit?"
"Of course," says Matilda. "Here it is," and she hands me a seven andthree-quarters hard boiled lid with his initials punched in the sweatband.
That move gave 'em something to chew over anyway, and kind of took theirminds off what I'd been askin' about Ellery. For after hearin' about himI knew I hadn't been mistaken about seein' somebody down by the lodge.That's right where I makes for.
As I gets to the bottom of the hill I slips through the hedge and walkson the grass so if there should be anyone at the gate they wouldn't hearme. And say, that was a reg'lar hunch I'd collected. Standing there inthe moonlight is the youth in the checked cap.
Near as I can make out he's a narrow-chested, loose-jawed young hick of19 or 20 and costumed a good deal like a village sport. You know--slitcoat pockets, a high turn-up to his trousers, bunion-toed shoes, and anecktie that must have been designed by a wall-paper artist who'd beenshell-shocked. On his left arm he has a basket partly covered by anapkin. Also he's just handin' something in through a little windowabout a foot above his head.
Course, it don't take any super-brain to guess that there must beanother party inside the lodge. What would Ellery be passin' stuffthrough the window for if there wasn't? And anybody inside couldn't verywell get out, for the only door is a heavy, iron-studded affairpadlocked on the outside and the little window is covered with anornamental iron grill. Besides, as I edges up closer, I hears talkinggoing on. It sounds like the inside party is grumblin' over something orother. His voice sounds hoarse and indignant, but I can't get what it'sall about. When the youth in the checked cap gave him the come-backthough it was clear enough.
"Aw, shut up, you big stiff!" says he. "You're lucky to get coldchicken and bread and jam. Where do you think I'm goin' to get hotcoffee for you, anyway? Ain't I runnin' a chance as it is, swipin' thisout of the ice-box after the servants leave? It's more'n you deserve,you crook."
More grumbles from inside.
"Yah, I got the cigars," says the other, "but you don't get 'em untilyou pass out them dishes. Think I can stick around here all night? Andremember, one peep to your pals, or to anyone else, and my trusty guardswill start shootin' through the window. Hey? How long? Until we get 'emall into the net. So you might as well quit your belly-achin' andconfess."
It was a more or less entertainin' dialogue but I thought I'd enjoy itmore if I could hear both sides. So I was workin' my way through thebushes with my ear stretched until I was within almost a yard of thewindow when I steps on a dry branch that cracks like a cap pistol. In aflash the youth has dropped the basket and whirled on me with a longcarvin' knife. Which was my cue for quick action.
"'Sall right, Ellery," says I. "Friend."
"What friend?" he demands, starin' at me suspicious.
"You know," says I, whisperin' mysterious.
"Oh!" says he. "From Headquarters?"
"You've said it," says I.
"But--but how can I tell," he goes on, "that you ain't----"
"Look!" says I, throwin' back my coat and runnin' my thumb under thearmhole of my vest.
Sure it worked. Why, if you flash a nickel-plated suspender buckle quickenough you can pass it for a badge even by daylight.
"I didn't think you'd get my letter so soon," says Ellery. "I'm glad youcame, though. See, I've got one of the gang already. He's theringleader, too."
&nb
sp; "Fine work!" says I. "But what's the plot of the piece? You didn't makethat so clear. Is it a case of----"
"Hist!" says Ellery. "I ain't told him how much I know. Let's get offwhere he can't hear. Back in the bushes there."
And when we've circled the lodge and put some shrubbery between us andthe road Ellery consents to open up.
"They're tryin' to do away with Sister Maggie," says he. "You know whoshe is--Mrs. Andres Zosco?"
"But I thought she was Myrtle Mapes," says I.
"Ah, that's only her screen name," says Ellery. "It was Maggie Bean backin Shelby, where we come from. And she was Maggie Bean when she went toNew York and got that job as a stenog. in old Zosco's office. It washim that gave her a chance to act in the movies, you know. Guess shemade good, eh? And then Zosco got so stuck on her that he married her.Well, that was all right, too. Course, he's an old pill, but he's gotall kinds of dough. Rollin' in it. Maggie's done a lot for the fam'ly,too. Gave me a flivver all for myself last Christmas; took me out of thecommission house and started me in at high school again. She's rightthere with the check book, Maggie.
"That's what makes them other Zoscos so sore--that Brother Jake and hiswife. See? They'd planned all along comin' in for most of his pilethemselves. Most likely meant to put him out of the way. But when theycomes on and finds the new wife--Well, the game is blocked. It would goto her. So they starts right in to get rid of Maggie. I hadn't been inthe house a day before I'd doped that out. I knew there was a plot on todo Maggie."
"You don't say!" says I. "How?"
"Slow poison, I expect," says Ellery. "In her coffee, maybe. Anyway, ithad begun to work. Maggie was mopin' around. I found her cryin'. Ispotted Jake Zosco right off. You can tell just by lookin' at him thathe's that kind. Besides, he acts suspicious. Always prowlin' aroundrestless. Then there's the butler. He's in it, too. I caught him andJake whisperin' together. I don't know how many more. Some of the maids,maybe, and most likely a few men on the outside. They might be plannin'to stage a jewel robbery with a double murder and lay it all ontounknown burglars. Get me?"
"Uh-huh!" says I. "But how much have you got on Brother Jake? And howdid you come to get him locked up here?"
"Oh, I had the goods on Jake, all right," says Ellery. "After I saw himconfabbin' with that crook butler the other night I shadows himconstant. I was on his trail when he sneaks down here after dinner. Isaw him unlock the lodge house. I heard him fumblin' around inside. ThenI slips up and locks him in. Half an hour later down comes the butlerand two others of the gang, but when they sees me they beats it. Iexpect they'd try to rescue him, if they thought he was there. And theymay find out any minute."
"That's right," says I. "Lucky I came out just as I did. There's onlyone thing to do."
"What's that?" asks Ellery.
"Lug Jake up to the house, confront him with the butler, tell 'emthey're both pinched, and give 'em the third degree," says I. "You'llsee. One or the other will break down and tell the whole plot."
"Say!" gasps Ellery. "Wouldn't that be slick! Just the way they do inthe movie dramas, eh?"
I had to smother a chuckle when that came out, for I'd alreadyrecognized some of the symptoms of a motion picture mind while Ellerywas sketchin' out this wild tale.
"Go to the movies much down in Shelby?" I asks.
"Most every night," says Ellery. "I used to even before Maggie got intothe game. Begun goin' when I was 'leven. At first I was strong for thisWild West stuff, but no more. Give me a good crook drama with a bigpunch in every reel. They're showin' some corkers lately. I've seen 'emabout all. That's how I come to get wise to this plot of Jake Zosco's.Come on! Got your wrist irons ready for him?"
"Oh, I never use the bracelets unless I have to," says I. "I expecthe'll toddle along meek enough when he sees the two of us."
I hadn't overstated the case much at that. Course, Jake Zosco hasdeveloped more or less of a grouch durin' his 36 hours of solitaryconfinement, but when Ellery orders him to march out with his hands uphe comes right along.
"What foolishness now, you young rough necker?" he demands.
"You'll soon find out how foolish it is," says Ellery. "You're in thehands of the law."
"Wha-a-at!" gasps Jake. "For such a little thing as that? It--it can'tbe. Who says it of me?"
"Isn't this your hat?" says I, handin' him the hail-proof kelly. "Itis, eh? Then you're the one. Come on, now. Right up to the house."
"It's a foolishness," he protests. "In Saginaw it couldn't be done."
All the way up the hill he mutters and grumbles but he keeps on going.Not until he gets near enough to get a glimpse of all the people in thedrawin'-room does he balk.
"Matilda and all!" says he. "Why couldn't we go in by the back?"
"Nothing doin'," says Ellery, flourishing his knife. "You're goin' toface the music, you are."
"That's the way to talk to him, Ellery," says I. "But if you don't mindI think I'd better take charge of him from now on."
"Sure thing," says Ellery. "He's your prisoner."
"Then in you go, Jake," says I. "And don't forget about keepin' thehands up. Now!"
Say, you should have seen that bunch when our high tragedy trio marchesin; Ellery with his butcher knife on one side; me on the other; andleadin' in the center Mr. Jake Zosco, his arms above his head, hisdinner coat all dusty and wrinkled, and a two days' stubble of whiskersdecoratin' his face.
It was Mrs. Jake who got her breath first and swooped down on her littleman with wild cries of "Oh, Jake! My own Jakey at last!" And in anothersecond his head is all tangled up with the pearl ropes.
Next Andres Zosco comes to. "What is it, a holdup act?" he asks."Ellery, what you doing with that knife? What's it all about, somebody?"
That seems to be my cue, so I steps to the front. "Sorry, Mr. Zosco,"says I, "but Ellery has discovered a deep laid plot."
"Eh?" says Zosco, gawpin'.
"To do away with you and your wife," I goes on. "He says your brotherJake is in it, and Mrs. Jake, and the butler, and maybe a lot of others.Isn't that right, Ellery?"
"Yep," says Ellery. "They're all crooks."
"What confounded tommyrot!" says Zosco. "Why--why, Jake wouldn't hurt afly."
"Tell what you saw, Ellery," I prompts.
"I heard 'em plottin'," says Ellery. "Anyway, I saw Jake and the butlerwhisperin' on the sly. And they planned to meet down at the lodge withthe others. I think that dago chauffeur was one. But I foiled 'em. Ifollowed Jake when he sneaked into the lodge house and locked him in.Then I wrote to the chief detective at Headquarters and they sent outthis sleuth to help me round 'em up." He finishes by wavin' at metriumphant.
And you might know that would get a chuckle out of Mr. Robert. "Oh,yes!" says he. "Detective Sergeant Torchy!"
Meanwhile Andres Zosco is starin' from one to the other of us andscratchin' his head puzzled. "I can't get a word of sense out of itall," says he. "Not a word. Jake, let's hear from you. Where have youbeen since night before last after dinner?"
Jake pries himself loose from the billowy embrace and advances sheepish."Why--why," says he, "I was locked in that fool lodge house."
"You were, eh?" says Zosco. "But how did that happen? What did you go inthere for?"
"Aw, if you must know, Andy, it--it was pinochle," he growls. "It ain'ta crime, is it, a little game?"
"What about the butler, though, and the others?" insists Zosco.
"Why," says Jake, "they was goin' to be in it, too. Can't play pinochlealone, can you? And in a place like this where there's nothing goin' onbut silly billiards, or that bridge auction, a feller's gotta find someamusement, ain't he? Saginaw they comes to the house 'most everynight--Hoffmeyer and Raditz and----"
"Yes, I know," breaks in Zosco. "So that was the plot, was it, Ellery?"
Ellery registers scorn. "Huh!" says he. "Don't let him put over any suchfish tale on you. Ask him about the slow poison in Maggie's coffee, andstealin' the jewels, and--and all the rest."
"Why, Ell
ery!" gasps Mrs. Zosco.
"Didn't I catch you snifflin'?" demands Ellery. "And ain't you beenmopin' around?"
"Oh!" says she. "But that was before Andy had promised to let me playthe lead in his new eight-reel feature, 'The Singed Moth.' I've beenchipper enough since, haven't I, Andy, dear?"
"Slow poison!" echoes Zosco. "Jewel stealing! Murder plots! Boy, wheredid you get such stuff in your head?"
But Ellery can only drop his chin and scrape his toe.
"I expect I can clear up that mystery," says I. "As a movie fan Elleryis an ace."
And then it was Zosco's turn to stare. I don't know whether it got clearhome to him then or not. He was just about to separate himself from someremark on the subject when Mrs. Jake cut loose with another squeal.
"Why, Jake Zosco!" says she. "Look at you! Like a tramp you are."
"Well, why not?" says Jake. "Didn't I sleep last night in awheelbarrow?"
And when the folks you're callin' on get to droppin' into intimatepersonal remarks like that it's time to back out graceful. I guess evenMrs. Robert decides this wasn't just the evenin' to play the pipe organ.Before we'd got out they'd opened up the subject of what to do withyoung Ellery Bean and the prospects were that he was due for a quickreturn to Shelby, N. C.
"I don't see what good that's going to do," says Vee. "I should say thathe needed some kind of mental treatment. Why, his poor foolish headseems to be filled with nothing but crime and crooks. I don't understandhow he could get that way."
"You would," says I, "if you'd take a full course of Zosco films."