CHAPTER X
ON THE TRAIL
Farland engaged a taxicab, bade Murk get into it, got in himself, andthey started downtown. The detective leaned back against the cushionsand regarded Murk closely. He knew that Sidney Prale had guessedcorrectly, that Murk was the sort of man who would prove loyal to afriend.
"This is a bad business," Farland said.
"It's tough," said Murk.
"If it was anybody but Sid Prale, I'd say he was guilty. It sure looksbad. And there is that fountain pen!"
"Somebody's tryin' to do him dirt," Murk said.
"There's no question about that, Murk, old boy. Well, we are going toget him out of it, aren't we?"
"I'll do anything I can."
"Like him, do you?"
"Met him less than twenty-four hours ago, but I wish I'd met him orsomebody like him ten years ago," Murk replied. "If it hadn't been forMr. Prale, I'd be a stiff up in the morgue this minute."
"Strong for him, are you?"
"Yes, sir, I am!"
"Um!" said Jim Farland. "We're going to get along fine together. I wasstrong for Sid Prale ten years ago, before he went away. And I'll betthat, when we get to the bottom of this, we'll find something mightyinteresting."
The taxicab stopped at a corner, and Farland and Murk got out. Farlandpaid the chauffeur and watched him drive away, and then he led Murkaround the corner.
"Know where you are?" he asked.
"Sure. Right over there is the little shop where Mr. Prale bought me mynew clothes," Murk said.
"Fine! That goes to show that Prale told the truth. Well, Murk, youstand right here by the curb and watch the front door of that shop. Andwhen you see me beckon to you, you come running."
"Yes, sir."
Jim Farland hurried across the street, opened the door of the littleshop, and entered. The proprietor came from the rear room when he heardthe door slammed.
He knew Jim Farland and had known him for years. There were fewold-timers in that section of the city who did not know Jim Farland. Theman who faced the detective now was small, stoop-shouldered, a sort of arat of a man who had considerably more money to his credit than hisappearance indicated, and who was not eager to have the world in generalknow how he had acquired some of it.
"Evenin', Mr. Farland," he said. "Anything I can do for you, sir?"
"Maybe you can and maybe you can't," Farland told him. "You beenbehaving yourself lately?"
"What do you mean, Mr. Farland? I've been trying to get along, butbusiness ain't been any too good the last year."
"Save that song for somebody who doesn't know better!" Farland advisedhim. "Change the record when you play me a tune."
"Yes, sir. Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Farland?"
"Remember a little deal a couple of years ago?" Farland demandedsuddenly.
"I--I----"
"I see that you do. One little word from me in the proper quarter, oldman, and you'll be doing time. You've sailed pretty close to the edge ofthe law a lot of times, and once, I know, you slipped over the edge abit."
"I--I hope, sir----"
"You'd better hope that you can keep on the good side of me," JimFarland told him.
"If there is anything I can do, Mr. Farland----"
"Do you suppose you could tell the truth?"
"Yes, sir."
"I'm going to give you a chance. If you tell the truth, I may forgetsomething I know, for the time being. But, if you shouldn't tell thetruth--well, my memory is excellent when I want to exercise it."
Farland stepped to the door and beckoned, and Murk hurried across thestreet and entered the shop.
"Ever see this man before?" Farland demanded.
The storekeeper licked his lips, and a sudden gleam came into his eyes.
"I--he seems to look familiar, but I can't say."
"You'd better say!" Farland exclaimed. "I want the truth out of you, orsomething will drop. And when it drops, it is liable to hit you on thetoes. Get me?"
"I--I don't know what to do," wailed the merchant.
"Tell the truth!"
"But--there is something peculiar about----"
"Out with it! Know this man?"
"I've seen him before," the merchant replied.
"When?"
"La-last night, sir."
"Now we are getting at it!" Jim Farland exclaimed. "When did you see himlast night, and where, and what happened?"
"He was in the store, Mr. Farland, about half past ten or a quarter ofeleven o'clock. He--he bought those clothes he's got on."
"Pay for them?"
"Yes, sir."
"Who paid for them?" Farland demanded.
"A gentleman who was with him," said the merchant.
"Ah! Know the gentleman?"
"I saw him to-day--at police headquarters."
"And you said that you never had seen him before--that he was not herelast night with this man. Why did you lie?"
Jim Farland roared the question and smashed a fist down upon thecounter. The little merchant flinched.
"Out with it!" Farland cried. "Tell the truth, you little crook! I wantto know why you lied, who told you to lie. I want to know all about it,and mighty quick!"
"I--I don't understand this," the merchant whimpered. "I was afraid ofmaking a mistake."
"You'll make a mistake right now if you don't tell the truth!" JimFarland told him.
"I--I got a letter, sir, by messenger. I got it early this morning,sir."
"Well, what about it?"
"The letter was typewritten, sir, and was not signed. There was athousand dollars in bills in the letter, sir, and it said that a Mr.Prale had just been arrested for murder, and that he probably would tryto make an alibi by saying that he was here last night and bought someclothes for another man. The letter said that I was to take the moneyand ask no questions, and that, if I was called to police headquarters,I was to say the man had not been here and that I never had seen him inmy life before."
"And you fell for it? You wanted that thousand, I suppose."
"I'll show you the letter, Mr. Farland. There was no signature at all,and the paper was just common paper. I--I thought it was politics, sir."
"You did, eh?"
"Thought it had something to do with politics, sir. I thought the letterand money might have come from political headquarters. I was afraid totell the truth at the police station."
"You mean you have been so crooked for years that you're afraid ofeverybody who has a little influence," Farland told him.
"I thought it was orders, sir, from somebody who had better be obeyed."
"Oh, I understand, all right. Well, I scarcely think it was politics.You've been played, that's all. Get me that letter!"
"Yes, sir."
The merchant got it and handed it over, together with the envelope. Hehad told the truth. The letter was typewritten on an ordinary piece ofpaper, and the envelope was of the sort anybody could purchase at acorner drug store. Farland put the letter in his pocket.
"Here between ten thirty and a quarter of eleven, was he?"
"Yes, sir," said the merchant.
"All right! You remember that, and don't change your mind again, if youknow what is good for you. You'll hear from me in the morning. That'sall!"
Jim Farland went from the store with a grinning Murk at his heels,leaving a badly frightened small merchant behind him.
"I know that bird," he told Murk. "He's a fence, or I miss my guess.It's no job at all to run a bluff on a small-time crook like that. Andnow we'll run down and see that barber."
They engaged another taxicab and made a trip. Once more Murk remainedoutside, and Jim Farland entered and beckoned the barber to him.
"Step outside the door where nobody will overhear," he said. "I want toask you something."
The barber stepped outside, wondering what was coming. This man knew JimFarland, too, and he knew that a call from him might mean trouble.
"Trying to see how far you can go
and keep out of jail?" Farlanddemanded.
"I--I don't know what you mean, sir."
"Trying to run a bluff on me? On me?" Farland gasped. "You'd better talkstraight. Do you expect to run a barber shop by day and a gambling jointby night all your life?"
"Why, I----"
"Don't lie!" Farland interrupted. "I know all about that little backroom. Maybe I'm not on the city police force now, but you know me! I'vegot a bunch of friends on the force, and if I told a certain sergeantabout your little game and said that I wanted to have you run in hewouldn't hesitate a minute."
"But what have I done, Mr. Farland?" the barber gasped. "I've alwaysbeen friendly to you."
"I know it. But are you going to keep right on being friendly?"
"Of course, sir."
"Willing to help me out in a little matter if I forget about thatgambling?"
"I'll do the best I can, Mr. Farland."
"Then answer a few questions. Did you get a typewritten letter thismorning, with a wad of money in it?"
The barber's face turned white.
"Answer me!" Farland commanded.
"Yes, I--I got such a letter and I don't know what to make of it," thebarber said. "I've got the letter and money in my desk right now. Therewasn't any signature, and I didn't know where the letter came from, orwhat it meant."
"Then why did you do what the letter told you to do?" Farland asked.
"I--I don't understand."
Farland motioned, and Murk now stepped around the corner.
"Know this man?" Farland demanded.
"I--I've seen him before."
"That letter told you to go to police headquarters, if requested to doso, and deny you knew this man, didn't it? It told you not to help a mannamed Sidney Prale, arrested for murder, to make his alibi by tellingthat he was here with this man last night about eleven o'clock, didn'tit?"
"Y-yes, sir."
"And you did just what the letter told you?"
"I was afraid not to do it, sir. I didn't know where that letter camefrom, you see."
"Had an idea it came from some boss, didn't you?"
"I didn't know and I didn't dare take a chance, Mr. Farland. You knowhow it is?"
"I know how it is with a man who has busted a few laws and knows heought to be pinched!"
"Did I make some sort of a mistake, sir? What should I do now?"
"Something you don't do very often--tell the truth," Jim Farlandreplied. "How about this man?"
"He came here with the other gentleman last night about eleven o'clock,sir. He got a hair cut and a shave, and the other gentleman paid thebill."
"Thanks. Sure about the time?"
"I know that it was almost a quarter after eleven when they left theshop."
"Well, I'm glad you can speak the truth. Get on your hat and coat!"
"I--what do you mean, sir? Am I arrested?"
"No. Get that letter and come with me. I want you to tell the truth tosomebody else, that's all."
The frightened barber got his hat and coat and the letter, and followedJim Farland and Murk to the corner. There Farland engaged anothertaxicab, and ordered the chauffeur to drive back to the little clothingstore.
"Running up a nice expense bill for Prale, but he won't care," JimFarland said to Murk.
He compelled the merchant to shut up his shop and get into the cab, andthen the chauffeur drove to police headquarters. Farland had telephonedfrom the clothing store, and the captain of detectives was waiting forhim. He ushered the merchant and the barber into the office, looked downat the captain, and grinned.
"What's all this?" the captain demanded.
"It's Sid Prale's alibi," Jim Farland said. "These two gents want totell you how they lied to-day, and why they lied. It is an interestingstory."
The captain sat up straight in his chair, while Jim Farland removed hishat, sat down, motioned for Murk to do the same, and made himselfcomfortable.
"About that alibi," Farland said. "I know that George Lerton lied aboutmeeting Sid Prale on Fifth Avenue, but you don't, and so we'll let thatpass for the time being and get to it later. I just want to show you nowthat Prale's story about meeting this man Murk was a true tale. Thisclothing merchant is ready to say now that Prale and Murk were in hisplace last night about half past ten, and that Murk got his clothesthere. And this barber is ready to swear that Prale and Murk arrived athis shop about a quarter of eleven or eleven, and did not leave until aquarter after eleven. Prale and Murk got to the hotel, as you know, atmidnight. Prale couldn't have gone to that other hotel, murdered RufusShepley, and got to his suite by twelve o'clock, not if he left thatbarber shop far downtown at a quarter after eleven, could he?"
"Scarcely," said the captain.
"Very well. Ask these two gents some questions."
The captain did. He read the two typewritten letters and he understoodhow the fear of a political power might have been in the hearts of thetwo men. He rebuked them and allowed them to go.
"Well, it looks a little better for Mr. Prale," the captain said, "butthis isn't the end, by any means. Remember that fountain pen of his thatwas found beside the body of Rufus Shepley!"
"I didn't say that it was the end," Jim Farland declared. "I don't wantit given out that any evidence has been found that is in Prale's favor.I just want you to whisper in the ear of the court that the alibi looksgood, and let it go at that. There's something behind this case, and wewant to find out what it is. Prale is out on bail--and let it go atthat, as far as the public is concerned."
"I grasp you," said the captain. "You want these enemies of his to thinkhe is in deep water, so they'll be off guard and you can do your work."
"Exactly," said Jim Farland.
"Good enough. I'll do my part."
"Know anything about a woman calling herself Kate Gilbert?"
"Never heard of her."
Farland explained what Prale had told him. The captain fingered hismustache.
"Several thousand women in this town answer that general description,"he said. "I'm afraid I can't help you, unless you can pick her up."
"That's what I'll do as soon as I can," Farland replied. "If I can getmy eyes on her once, I'll trail her and find out a few things. She mayhave nothing to do with this, and she may have a great deal to do withit. What do you know about George Lerton?"
"Shady broker," the captain replied. "Never done anything outside thelaw, as far as I know, but he's come pretty close to it. I'd hate tohave him handling my money."
"Well, he lied about meeting Prale. He did his best to get Prale to runaway from town. That was a couple of hours before the murder, of course,so it probably had nothing to do with that. But why should he try to getPrale out of town? And, being a man of that sort, why did he say that hewouldn't handle Prale's funds? You'd think a man of his sort would likenothing better than to get his fingers tangled up in that million."
"I'll have a man take a look at George Lerton."
"Don't strain yourself," said Jim Farland. "I'm going to take a look athim myself, the first thing to-morrow morning."
He left headquarters with Murk, and this time he did not engage ataxicab. He walked up the street, Murk at his side, and puffed at acigar furiously.
"Well, Murk, we've made a good start," Farland said, after a time.
"Yes, sir."
"How do you like working with a detective now?"
"Aw, you ain't a regular detective," Murk said.
"What's that?"
"I mean you ain't an ordinary dick. You got some sense."
"Thanks for the compliment. I know men who would dispute the statement,"Farland told him.
They walked and walked, and after a time were on Fifth Avenue and goingtoward the hotel where Prale had his suite. Suddenly, just ahead ofthem, they saw Sidney Prale and the man from headquarters. They hurriedto catch up with them.
"What's the idea?" Farland asked.
"Needed a walk," Prale replied. "Didn't feel like going to bed, and awalk would
do me good, I knew."
"I'll have some things to tell you in the morning," Farland said. "ButI'm not going to tell you to-night, except to say that it is good news,and I'm issuing orders to Murk not to tell you, either. I want you toforget the thing and get some rest."
"All right," Prale said, laughing; and then he stopped still and gasped.
"What is it?" Farland asked.
"Kate Gilbert!"
"Where?"
"There--just getting into that limousine. See her? The girl with the redhat!"
"I see her," Farland replied, signaling the chauffeur of a passingtaxicab. "This is what I was hoping for, Sid. Go on to the hotel withMurk and guard. I'm going to find out a few things about Miss KateGilbert!"
He gave the chauffeur of the taxicab whispered directions, and thensprang into the machine.
The Brand of Silence Page 10