by Jerry eBooks
It was late the next afternoon when Kerr walked into McNutt’s private office. McNutt straightened his bony figure in his chair and gazed at Joe Kerr with outright suspicion. McNutt had a long, dour face and his hair was graying at the temples.
“What do you want, Joe?” he asked sourly.
“You’ve got the wrong cue this time, McNutt,” Kerr answered, with a chuckle.
“You ought to have the welcome mat out for me and be wearing a beaming smile. You’re going to throw both your arms around my neck and sob with joy when I tell you what I’m here for.”
“So?” McNutt said acidly. “Just what are you here for?”
“To save you money, McNutt. I’ve come here out of the goodness of my heart. Purely for old time’s sake. Just to save you a nice wad of dough.”
MCNUTT snorted. “You, Joe Kerr, are going to save me money? I don’t believe the age of miracles has arrived yet. So you can skip the sales talk and get down to tacks. What new racket have you promoted now? And why should you pick on me for the fall guy?”
“You hit the nail right on the head there, McNutt,” Joe Kerr’s grin broadened. “You’re the fall guy all right, you and your wealthy pals. But I didn’t promote the racket. I just happened to fall into the role of innocent spectator. It was an accident. An accident that will put a nice nick in your roll—if I don’t step in and save you.”
“What accident?”
“It happened last night at the intersection of Twenty-fifth and Vinton Streets. You’re going to get a nice fat claim for it—if you haven’t already. A guy was crossing the street out there last night. One of the Windsor Storage trucks was involved.”
“I know all about it,” McNutt snapped. “The claim is already in and I’ve made a pretty thorough investigation of the facts. And just how do you propose to save us money on the claim?”
“By telling you the simple truth about it, McNutt. I happened to be on Vinton Street last night when it happened. I had a clear, unobstructed view of the whole thing. I saw the helpless victim start to cross the street. I saw the big truck bearing down on him. I heard the scream of agony and saw the mangled body roll over the pavement. I saw the poor chap picked up, put in the truck and carted away to the hospital.”
“Isn’t that just lovely?” McNutt asked with soft sarcasm. “You saw the whole thing? Now get down to the point and tell how you are going to save me money.”
“I’m going to, McNutt. Of course, I expect to receive a reasonable check for services rendered after I’ve saved you this dough. You wouldn’t try to cheat me, would you?”
“I’ll pay you for services rendered, Joe. Now what’s your story?”
“Why, there wasn’t any accident at all, McNutt. The thing was a frame pure and simple. That truck never hit the guy at all. The truck and the man were between me and the street light and I couldn’t be wrong. The truck missed the guy a foot. But he let out the big yell just the same and did a few rollovers on the pavement. Then two stooges shot out and took charge. They were planted there as witnesses. I don’t know whether the truck driver was in on it or not. Anyway, the story he tells won’t do you any good. But I’m the smart little lad that can blow them out of the water. That guy wasn’t hit at all.”
Theodore McNutt frowned heavily. “You’re the only one that says so.”
“Sure, I am. They took this mug to Dr. Zoller’s Hospital, didn’t they? That ought to be enough to tip you off—with Zoller’s reputation. I don’t doubt they framed it good. The victim will probably show a lot of bruises. He’ll have terrible pains in his head and his back and they’ll all claim he’ll be an invalid the rest of his life. But now you can sit back and laugh at ’em. You won’t have to pay off a dime. The guy wasn’t touched by that truck.”
“There is indisputable evidence that he was hit by that truck,” McNutt said stonily. “Evidence that even your slightly doubtful reputation for veracity will not overcome.”
“What evidence?” Joe Kerr demanded.
“A leg. A leg that is now consumed in Dr. Zoller’s incinerator. So the accident was a phony, huh?” McNutt raised his voice accusingly. “And the truck didn’t hit the guy at all? I suppose this guy just agreed to let Dr. Zoller cut off his leg so he could collect damages? Well, if he did we couldn’t prove it in a thousand years.”
Joe Kerr’s eyes were bulging a little. “I can’t believe it,” he gasped. “I can’t believe that they could find a guy that would deliberately agree to fake an accident like that and then let them saw off his leg. There must be a trick about it somewhere.”
“There was no trick!” McNutt insisted. “We sent over a doctor this morning. That man’s leg was amputated. Zoller said it was terribly mangled when they brought him in, that there was nothing left for him to do but go ahead and take off the leg. Now how are you going to save me money on a case like that?”
“I’m ready to swear that the truck didn’t hit him at all,” Kerr said weakly.
“I wouldn’t dare let you go on the stand,” McNutt sneered. “It would be you against at least three witnesses and an amputated leg. They’ve got Wellington Jones to handle the case for them. I can just hear Wellington Jones tearing into you on cross-examination. He’d have you arrested for perjury before you got out of the courtroom. You’ve testified in a lot of cases for us. He’d make out a case, all right. He’d say you were lying for a fee.”
JOE KERR sat back in his chair and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. McNutt was right. Against a set-up like that he’d look silly. Yet he still was sure that accident had been faked. The truck hadn’t touched the man. The man hadn’t got his leg mangled by letting out a yell and rolling over on the pavement.
“And maybe you are lying about it,” McNutt charged harshly. “Maybe you thought you could collect a nice fee with a trumped-up story about how you saw that accident. Maybe you’re just another private detective on the make. Your story doesn’t make sense.”
“I guess you’re right, McNutt,” Kerr admitted. “It doesn’t make sense—with that line-up against it.”
“We’ll be lucky if we settle off the case on the right side of twenty grand,” McNutt scowled. “Wellington Jones hinted at thirty grand. He hinted again he might come down to twenty-five grand for a quick settlement.”
“But you don’t have to make a quick settlement, McNutt,” Kerr argued earnestly. “Now it happens that I believe my own eyes. I still think the case is a phony. I want a chance to prove it.”
“Go ahead and prove it,” McNutt invited him, with irony.
“You’re stuck for real dough on this job, McNutt. You ought to be glad to cough up if I pull the trick and upset this scheme. How about twenty per cent of what I save you?”
“Twenty per cent!” McNutt started to protest in outraged dignity. Then he shrugged. “Agreed,” he said with a malignant smile, “considering that you haven’t got a ghost of a chance to collect.”
“Let me see the dope you’ve got on the case,” Kerr said. “I want to check all these guys from A to Z.”
“I’ve done a fair job of checking myself,” McNutt smirked. “I sent out wires right away and got reports on everyone mentioned. None of these parties are crooks. Go ahead and help yourself to the dope.”
McNutt had worked fast, Joe Kerr found out. The name of the man who had had his leg amputated was Ernest Dort. Dort, only a few hours out from under the ether, had given McNutt a brief statement. Among the facts were his birthplace and some of the places he had worked in the last few years. McNutt had sent out wires and had received replies in some instances. The wires confirmed Dort’s statements. From the wires it was plain that Dort did not seem to be a crook. About the worst that could be said about him was that he was a floater. He had done a lot of rambling about the country.
One wire was from a concern in Seattle. Dort had been employed by them just three months ago. He had worked in a warehouse and his job had consisted of wheeling heavy boxes about on hand trucks. That killed one theory that Joe K
err had in his mind. No man could have handled a job like that if there had been anything the matter with his leg.
Kerr also became convinced that there hadn’t been any switch in that truck on the way to the hospital. Dort was the man who had been picked up on Vinton Street and he was the man who had had his leg amputated.
JOE KERR darkly conceded that McNutt had reached a reasonable conclusion. Even though this accident might have been a phony, the business of taking off the leg had just about clinched its purpose. That smart lawyer, Wellington Jones, would laugh anybody out of court who tried to advance the theory that Ernest Dort, in sound mind and health, had permitted Dr. Zoller to saw off a good leg for the purpose of collecting damages. It looked as if that was the truth of it but no jury, hearing the testimony of the two witnesses and the truck driver, was going to fall for any part of such truth. Their verdict would be that the casualty companies were asserting a wild and unbelievable theory in an effort to defeat a legitimate and meritorious claim. McNutt, although he loved his employer’s dough far more than the average agent, knew that, right or wrong, he was stuck.
Joe Kerr would have thrown up his hands, too—if he hadn’t seen that phony accident with his own eyes. Kerr made up his mind that he wouldn’t concede anything. If there was any vulnerable spot in the smart scheme he was going to find it—and collect that twenty per cent that McNutt had agreed to. McNutt had assumed, of course, that he was perfectly safe in making that promise.
Kerr looked up the two witnesses in the case. They were both nobodies but they had jobs and it would be difficult to undermine their testimony.
The one weak link in the chain seemed to be Dr. Zoller. There was nothing against Dr. Zoller that could be charged outright. Only he seemed to make a habit of furnishing expert testimony in damage cases. Not a few of the cases were of patients he had treated in his own hospital. But even though the doctor had achieved a certain shady reputation he had been pretty smooth in his maneuverings and was not open to a direct challenge.
Joe Kerr checked on Ernest Dort’s local record the next morning. Dort had been in town about two months. He was employed by the American Glass Factory. He had received twenty dollars a week for sitting on a stool and inspecting table glasses that came by on a belt. All he had to do was watch the glasses and throw out the imperfect ones. His services, his foreman said, had been satisfactory. Dort had been a quiet man, well-behaved.
Dort had lived in a small two-room shack down by the river where he had done his own housekeeping and cooking.
Kerr went down and looked that shack over. There wasn’t much to see. Everything seemed to be just as Dort had left it shortly before he had wound up in Dr. Zoller’s hospital with his leg missing. There wasn’t a thing in the shack that Joe Kerr could put a finger on.
Kerr next turned his attention to the truck driver. His name was Orrin Hix. Hix had worked for the Windsor Storage Company about three months. Up to the time of this accident he had had no trouble of any kind. He lived in a room at 4765 Pike Street.
Joe Kerr went up to that room in the afternoon. He didn’t expect any answer when he knocked. He looked at the cheap look and took a bunch of keys from his pocket and opened the door after three tries. The room wasn’t much. There was an iron bedstead, a dresser, two chairs and some odds and ends. Kerr walked across the room and opened the door of the closet. A suit of clothes was hanging there. There was no label on the suit. There was a pair of new shoes on the floor, an extra hat on the shelf. Kerr looked at the band inside the hat. There was a name there. Emmons Toggery Shop, Raton, New Mexico.
Joe Kerr went back into the room and rummaged through the dresser. Five shirts, some ties, socks, and underwear. No papers or letters of any kind.
He was back in the center of the room when he heard the doorknob turning. He didn’t have a chance to get out. He stood there and waited. The tall, heavyshouldered young man blinked when he spotted Joe.
“What you doin’ in my room?” he growled.
“Came up to see you, Hix,” Kerr said easily. “The door was open so I thought I’d come on in and wait for you.”
“You’d had quite a wait if I hadn’t got off early,” Hix said narrowly. “What would you want to see me about?”
“That accident on Vinton Street. I’m investigating it.”
“I already made a statement to the cops about it,” Hix said in an unpleasant tone. “I made a complete report to my company on it. I made out a report to the insurance company that covered the risk. Now where do you come in?”
“I’m one of the witnesses, Hix.”
“Witness to what?”
“To the accident.”
“I didn’t see you around there.”
“I was there just the same. I saw the whole thing. You admitted you hit the guy, didn’t you?”
“Sure I admit it. I’d look fine denyin’ that I hit him, wouldn’t I? With the poor guy layin’ there in the hospital with his leg off. My brakes failed me in the pinch. I couldn’t help bangin’ into him.”
“I guess it isn’t very pleasant to bowl over a man like that.”
“It was awful!” Hix shut his eyes. “I dreamed about it again all last night. I could see him tryin’ to get out of the way—then how the truck hit him—and how he flew through the air.”
“That was just the way it happened?”
“Sure.”
“Then you’re in on it, too.”
Hix’s face went blank. “In on what?”
“Why, the frame, Hix. I told you I saw the accident. Only it wasn’t a real accident. You didn’t hit that Ernest Dort at all. You missed him by a good foot.”
HIX stared at Kerr blankly.
“You’re crazy!” said Hix.
“Dort faked the whole thing. He let go a scream, jumped a little, and rolled. Then those two made-to-order witnesses dashed out and put on their act. I wasn’t positive about you when you drove away with them in the truck. Now I am.”
“You’re completely bugs!” Orrin Hix exploded. “I drove that truck straight to a hospital one of the guys directed me to. I stayed right there to see how bad he was hurt. The doc said his right leg had to come off right away. To save his life. The doc took the leg off. Now I suppose this Dort was foolish enough to have a perfectly good leg sawed off just so he could put in a claim for damages against the outfit I work for. That don’t add up, Mister. You’ll just make a sucker out of yourself if you try to make anybody believe a yarn like that.”
“You’re right on that, Hix. I know the truth about that accident but I can’t make the truth stick against you, Ernest Dort, and the two witnesses unless I can back it up by evidence. What’s your percentage on the pay-off, Hix?”
“I ain’t gettin’ no percentage,” Hix denied, his face reddening. “That accident was on the level. All you’re doing is tryin’ to cheat that poor devil who lost his leg out of what’s comin’ to him.”
“I want to see him get what’s coming to him, Hix. And the same to you, Doc Zoller and the two witnesses who are in on this play.”
The big truck driver doubled his fists and bared his teeth. “I know I left my door locked when I left here,” he said harshly. “You worked the lock, got in here to prowl my place and see what you could find. You’re no better than a burglar. I got a perfect right to smash your face in and throw you out in the street.”
Joe Kerr’s jaw squared belligerently. “Sure you’ve got the right, Hix. But have you got the sand to try it?”
Hix looked Kerr over carefully for a moment. Joe Kerr was three inches shorter than Hix and he had less bulk in his shoulders. Hix rose on his toes, then lunged forward. He brought his right far backward, then swung it around for a haymaker. It was meant to annihilate Kerr with one devastating impact.
Hix belonged to the school of rough and tumble fighters. He didn’t bother to raise his left hand for protection against a possible counter blow. Joe Kerr was short and compact—and quick. He stepped inside, brought his right against th
at exposed jaw in a short, pistonlike punch. The big man went up on his toes, grunted, then quivered. Kerr stepped back a little to make room for him on the floor. Hix lay there, his eyes a little glassy.
Kerr stepped over him and walked out of the room. Hix wasn’t interested enough to make a grab at a leg. Kerr went down to Theodore McNutt’s office.
He went over McNutt’s file on the Dort case again. McNutt hadn’t overlooked the truck driver. Hix, like Dort, had worked at a large assortment of jobs in various places. There was no mention of Raton, New Mexico. Joe Kerr sent a wire to Raton.
The answer came four hours later and it was disappointing. It said simply:
ORRIN HIX UNKNOWN HERE AND NO RECORD OF EMPLOYMENT
Maybe that name in the hat didn’t mean a thing. It was possible that Hix had just dropped into Raton for a day or two and bought a hat while there. Joe Kerr took another look through McNutt’s file and sent another wire asking about Ernest Dort. This time the answer wasn’t entirely a dud. The wire said:
ERNEST DORT EMPLOYED AS AMBULANCE AND HEARSE DRIVER BY STONE MORTUARY FOR THREE MONTHS STOP CLEAN RECORD HERE
Joe Kerr grinned as he re-read that wire. Neither Dort nor Hix had mentioned Raton in their statements of their travels. But Dort had worked there and Hix had stopped off there at least long enough to buy a hat. And the fact that Ernest Dort had driven an ambulance indicated that he might know something about accidents.
Joe Kerr called the airline offices and made a reservation.
He called McNutt the minute he got off the plane on the return trip. McNutt wasn’t in his office.
“He’s out at the Zoller Hospital,” Miss Leary, his secretary, explained over the wire. “On that Ernest Dort case. He came to terms with Wellington Jones for a quick settlement. McNutt is out there signing them up and paying off.”
“How much is he handing them?” Joe asked.
“I think it’s fifteen thousand,” replied.