Death Points a Finger

by Will Levinrew

  Chapter VII

  Jimmy decided to put a detailed account of the latestdevelopments of the story on the wire in Lentone. He thereforeasked Matthews to take him down in the sea sled. He could makebetter time that way than driving his own car over the plowed andunplowed fields that lay between the camp and the road.

  But he did not telegraph his story. He found the small telegraphoffice besieged with a crowd of men and women, all clamoring for awire. Jimmy grinned at the spectacle. It did not take the veterannewspaper man more than a glance to know it for what it was.

  Three hours had elapsed between the time he telephoned his flashand the moment when he stepped into the small telegraph office inNewport. In those three hours, all the big and some of the littlepapers of the country had frantically wired their nearestcorrespondents to get busy.

  From the North in Canada, from the South, East and West men andwomen began converging on the little town of Lentone, Vermont. Aday later these local correspondents would be replaced by starreporters, special writers, feature writers, syndicate writers,novelists, and sob sisters.

  Jimmy knew that within twenty-four hours every big newspaper inthe country and every important press service would be represented.

  Still grinning, he backed out of the telegraph office and huntedfor the nearest public telephone. He found a repetition here ofthe condition he had met in the telegraph office. He had to walksix blocks before he came to a booth at which one or more personswere not awaiting their turn.

  Forgotten now was any thought of enjoying himself in rest andrecreation on his vacation. The newspaper man remains a newspaperman for a long time, only because he loves the game. And "game" iswhat the newspaper man who belongs, calls it. Those who do notbelong get out of it sooner or later. On a big story he does notthink of food, drink or hours. In the absorption of a big story hecan and does continue without rest an unbelievable number ofhours, subject himself to relentless physical strain. In doing sohe enjoys it, as he does nothing else. He exemplifies perfectlythe statement by the philosopher that there is no greater joy onearth than the one found in work. Hardly anyone, in any otheroccupation puts in the hours, the work, the loyalty for so littlefinancial reward as does the newspaper man.

  Jimmy's connection with his office was quickly made. Hite's fewsentences were short, sharp, barking ones. Hite was keyed up tothe highest pitch. By this time a call had gone out and he hadenough men to handle all phases of the story. Hite gave some brieforders, made some caustic comment and switched the wire to RoyHeath's desk.

  Even this individual's speech was not now the lazy drawl ithabitually was. The tremendous scope of the story, the tensefeverish activity on the part of Hite at the desk near himinfected even Roy Heath.

  Jimmy knew without being there that since the moment he had hungup the receiver on his first call, Hite and the rest of the staffhad been in a frenzy of activity. Jimmy could picture it as thoughhe were there, Hite barking orders to men and office boys at hiselbow and at men and women perhaps hundreds and thousands of milesaway. Jimmy could picture the stream of men and women and boysparading before his desk for orders. Jimmy could picture himperhaps talking into three telephones almost simultaneously; tothe composing room, to a member of the staff somewhere in theMetropolitan area and to a correspondent many miles away.

  Far and wide over the entire country, lapping over into foreigncountries ranged the newspaper net that was thrown out forinformation. This information, arriving at the office, would beweeded out. The wheat would be separated from the chaff; theusable stuff would be licked into shape and Roy Heath and twoother rewrite men would transform it into living, dramatic,racing, pulsating recital.

  With only a faint trace of his lazy drawl, Roy said:

  "All right, Jimmy, shoot it fast. Story waitin' for a new lead."

  Jimmy poured into his ears the newest developments of the story;Professor Brierly's search and his conclusions. Jimmy concludedwith:

  "About the New York end now, Roy. About Schurman and Wrigley--"

  "We're coverin' that, Jimmy. Schurman committed suicide, I guess,and about Wrigley, nothin' to that. He was drowned. He--"

  At this point Jimmy interrupted. With a fair imitation ofProfessor Brierly's crisp, staccato, clear cut accents, with theperfectly astonishing memory for which James Hale was known, hesaid:

  "Oh, yes? Not much question about Wrigley, the man who was foundin the water at Bradley Beach, is there? All we know about him isthat he was found dead in the water. Do you know that he wasdrowned? Of course you don't.

  "And Schurman, the man who was reported to have committed suicideby hanging. All you know about that is that he was found hangingin his study, dead. Do you know that he died by hanging? Do youknow that he was not dead before he was hung? If that is the case,if he was dead before he was hung, then, obviously he could nothave hung himself. Perfectly astonishing to me, Mr. Heath, that aman who has followed your profession as long as you have should beso gullible. For that matter, do you know these men are reallydead. We scientists--"

  With surprising patience, Roy had listened to this burlesque. Thatwas because Roy was one of the greatest rewrite men in theprofession. Roy's quick mind had instantly grasped the thing thatwas behind this burlesque. At this point he interrupted.

  "I get you, Professor. Too bad you can't be here yourself. But Ipromise that in a couple hours we'll know more about Schurman'sand Wrigley's death. Swell tip, Jimmy. We'll go right after it.That all?"

  "Yep," said Jimmy, going back to character. "That's all, Roy,s'long. Oh, wait a minute, Roy. Schurman is at your end. Got anydope on that?"

  "No, Jimmy, all we got is a flash. We're gettin' the details now.He had engaged a plane to fly up to Higginbotham's camp, plannin'to be there first thing in the mornin'. When he didn't come up tothe airport, the pilot began telephonin'. Finally, about eighto'clock or so in the morning, an old woman who takes care ofSchurman's apartment, came and found him hangin'. That's about allwe got, Jimmy."

  Jimmy was about to hang up the receiver, when Hite's harsh growlcut in:

  "Wait a minute, Jimmy. I was listening in. You gave me an idea. Wecan and will, of course, verify these two deaths, but it would beswell if Professor Brierly were here. Could you persuade him tocome down here to give us the benefit of his experience andadvice?"

  "I don't know, chief. He's a crochety old gent, you know, and hehas notions about things. He might take the notion that it is notfitting or pleasant or convenient to go. He might think--oh, hemight think anything."

  "Yes, Jimmy, I know something about the peppery old gent. But youstand pretty strong with him. See if you can persuade him. I'mgoing to take it for granted that he'll come. Will he object toriding in a plane?"

  "Who, Professor Brierly? Don't make me laugh, chief. There isn't athing on, above or beneath the earth that he's afraid of. If hedecides to come he'll want to come the quickest way possible."

  "All right then, Jimmy. I'll charter a plane by wire. If heconsents to come there will be a plane ready for him in theairport most convenient to his camp, wherever that is, or right onthe lake. Step on it, Jimmy."

  Jimmy thought of using the telephone, decided against it. It mighttake some diplomatic finesse to persuade the old scientist to hirehimself out to a newspaper. He might feel it degrading andcheapening to do such a thing.

  On the way to the camp, Jimmy's moods were reflected in hisfeatures by alternate smiles and frowns as he pictured the mannerin which his office would be received.

  By the time he reached the camp he decided against using any cheaptrickery to accomplish his purpose. He held Professor Brierly intoo much esteem to attempt such a thing. He made up his mind thatforthright frankness would serve his purpose best. He wasdelighted and surprised at the ease with which his errand wasaccomplished.

  Professor Brierly consented to make the trip without hesitation.He did balk at first about accepting the plane at the expense ofJimmy's paper, but he was persuaded that it was ethical in thehighest degree to
do so. Jimmy clinched this argument by sayingthat if Professor Brierly refused to do it for the paper, Hitewould perhaps engage one of the charlatans or pseudo-scientists,against whom the old savant was in the habit of raving.

  At this moment there came from the direction of the lake thedeafening roar of an airplane motor, which diminished as it camenearer. Looking out they saw an amphibian taxi to within a fewyards of the wharf. Hite had not wasted time. The plane was thereto take Professor Brierly to New York.

  Jimmy decided to call it a day. His long drive from New York andthe strenuous day just past, broken only by a few hours' sleep,told even on his robust constitution. Besides, there was nothingfurther to do that afternoon. Hite had indicated that when Jimmy'sfresh news was put on the presses the staff would quit for theday.

  He was in Lentone bright and early the following morning. A shortvisit to the home of the late Morris Miller followed by a visit tothe police, gave him very little for a new lead to the story. Heruefully told himself that the news was probably where ProfessorBrierly was. He telephoned to his paper.

  Hite's voice had a tremor that showed he came as near laughing ashe ever got.

  "Great little guy that professor of yours, Jimmy. My, oh my, whata newspaper man he would have made. Is he always that way, Jimmy?"

  "What did he do, chief?"

  "What did he do? For one thing he came as near getting me firedfrom this job as I ever got. He snarled and growled at me. He toldthe managing editor that he was an ignoramus and the M.E., believeit or not, took it, took it like a little lamb, Jimmy. Dije everhear anybody call the M.E. an idiot and get away with it?

  "He told Mr. Conway, the boss, that he was a charlatan; that hewas running a yellow sheet; that he had the ethics of a hyena;that he was pandering to the worst passions of the ignorant moband a few other choice things.

  "He set the police commissioner's office on its collective ear anddrove the medical examiners crazy. What he said to them should bepreserved as a method of raising blisters on a man's skin withlanguage and done in good English.

  "He did say one nice thing about one human being. He said that oneJames Hale, Esq., was not so bad--for a newspaper man. Now don'tget swelled up over this like a poisoned pup, Jimmy, or I'll haveyou killed. The price quoted for murdering a newspaper man is verylow.

  "But Jimmy, he gave us a swell new lead on the story. Schurman wasmurdered. Everybody here said he had committed suicide. As forWrigley, that appears to have been an honest drowning. He wasreally drowned. We're looking it up just the same, but we have theold bird's word for it that he died by drowning. Say, Jimmydoesn't that bird ever sleep. He was busy as a bee all night. Heleft here about five this morning and may be up there already forall I know. When he left he was as chipper and fresh and full ofpep as--well words fail me, Jimmy.

  "He says he's going right up to the camp of Justice Higginbotham.Jimmy, I'd give a leg if I could have had a stenographic report ofhis speeches while he was here and a picture of the individuals atwhom those speeches were fired.

  "S'long, Jimmy, remember we're runnin' a daily paper and not aquarterly." This was Hite's usual formula.

  Jimmy now decided to charter a swift motor boat. ProfessorBrierly's camp and Justice Higginbotham's camp were both aconsiderable distance off the main road. A swift motor boat, witha competent man to handle it, would transport him from Lentone toeither or both camps in less time than would a motor car.

  Getting a motor boat was not as easy as he had anticipated. Helearned that a sudden demand within the past twenty-four hours hadapparently exhausted all the available craft that were for hire.Something that one of the boatmen let drop gave him an inkling ofthe reason for this. The correspondents who were pouring intoNewport had reached the same conclusion as he and had forestalledhim. He also learned that every available motor car had been hiredwithin the past few hours.

  Foreseeing the possibility of being on the story for some time, heset out with the idea that if he could not charter a boat he wouldbuy one. He felt that the expense would be justified and he wascertain the powers that be on his paper would approve such a step;they were not niggardly in the matter of expenses.

  After a protracted search he found a youngster of eighteen, HarryStoy, who was not only willing to sell him his sea sled, but wasalso willing to hire out as the boat's crew. Harry was a fineupstanding youngster, who knew motor boats and who knew the lakeand surrounding country. When Harry learned that the man to whomhe sold the boat was a newspaper man on a big murder story, hestopped bargaining and entered the chase with nearly the sameamount of enthusiasm as that shown by the reporter himself.

  Jimmy opened his eyes wide with astonishment when Harry took himto Justice Higginbotham's camp. Boats were tied to the smallwharf. Boats were moored to every available spot on the shore. Forhundreds of yards about the wharf boats were anchored. Not sincehe had seen a regatta had Jimmy seen so many boats in one place atthe same time.

  When he stepped to the wharf and thence to the wide porch, heunderstood the cause of this. As he had seen at the telegraphoffice and the public telephone booths, Justice Higginbotham'scamp was now a magnet for all the newspapers and press services inthe United States and Canada. Near the wharf he recognized theplane that had transported Professor Brierly to New York.