Death Points a Finger

by Will Levinrew

  Chapter XII

  Sunday, the next day, gave Jimmy a chance to rest. He suppliedhimself with as many papers as he could get in Lentone and beganreading what others had to say about the most sensational murdercase in a decade. From the first moment when Professor Brierly hadpronounced the Miller death a murder the affair had assumednational importance.

  Following the clues supplied by the members of the Tontine group anumber of the papers and the important press services had followedthe dim traces of one Amos Brown, the last surviving member of thebatch of prisoners who had been numbered '14' in Libby Prison farback in 1864.

  One of the papers told in vivid detail of the disbanding of thearmy of the North by President Johnson on assuming office afterLincoln's assassination. This told of the day when two hundredthousand in weather worn uniforms, with tattered flags andpolished guns trudged in review before the President.

  It pictured several members of the Tontine group, youngsters ofseventeen or eighteen, forming part of the audience that saw thisarmy go by. It depicted a few of the Union members of the Tontinegroup in that marching horde. The story told in vivid detail ofthe attempts of the Confederate veterans to go back home to thequiet and industrious productive life which now that peace was athand, they yearned most for.

  The papers gave a brief history of each member of the dwindlingTontine group. They showed how the two hundred and thirty-sevenadversaries in the war had lived in amity and peace during thespan of years in the true spirit of comradeship.

  The papers spoke of the enormous size of the fund, which in thesixty-five years had, because of compound interest, grown withgeometric leaps. One of the special writers had elicited from Mr.Marshall, former Ambassador to Great Britain, the information thatfor nearly a decade the surviving members had reached a compromiseby which each survivor was to get annually an amount sufficientfor a livelihood. This amount was not divulged. This reporter didlearn, however, that this was done at the suggestion of one of thewealthiest members of the group. Jimmy suspected that this memberwas August Schurman.

  It was explained that the purpose of this was to save from actualwant those members who were not as fortunate financially as theircomrades. This method of dividing a small part of the fund,without impairing seriously the capital amount, would preserve theself-respect of the poorer members.

  One of the papers dug up an interesting story about StanislavVasiliewski, who was a Confederate soldier and had a brother inthe Union army. Stanislav's brother had been captured and held inJackson, Mississippi, where a rickety old enclosed bridge, theruins of which had been left standing above the water, was used asa prison. The prisoners were kept in this structure for one monthin the coldest season of the year without beds or bedding. At thisprison there was no fire or lights. Almost every day two or threewere carried out dead; some of them frequently lay at the entranceto the bridge unburied four or five days.

  Stanislav found his brother a prisoner in this place. It appearedcertain to him that his brother would not survive the terribleconditions more than a few days longer. He thereupon changeduniforms with his brother and forced the latter to leave theprison, himself remaining with the probability of facing a firingsquad.

  This paper mentioned Colonel Thomas C. Fletcher, of Blair'sBrigade, commander of the Missouri Wide Awake Zouaves, beingwounded and captured by the Confederates and with twenty othermen, privates and officers, being put into this prison.

  Reporters, special writers, novelists spread themselves in thisSunday edition. They extracted from the situation all the thrill,glamour and romance they could. And permeating it all was theterrible threat of death that hung over the heads of the Tontinegroup; the mysterious "14," who for all these years had followedthe group relentlessly with his terrible reminders.

  And, strange to say, with the major newspapers and police of twocountries making an exhaustive search, there was not one tangibleclue leading to the murderer or murderers. The newspapers talkedof "clues." The police of many communities talked of "clues." Theyissued statements to the effect that shortly there would be newdevelopments. Jimmy, the veteran newspaperman, took this all forexactly what it was worth. He knew that most of it or all of itwas "dope." The reporters had run out of facts and were havingrecourse to vague speculations. Strange too, Jimmy wondered thatin a story so replete with color and glamour, that this should bethe situation.

  The story was less than three days old; that is a long timecounted in editions. Many editions had gone to press. City, stateand Federal police were actively on the job. And now, when Jimmywas reading the Sunday papers, nearly sixty hours had elapsedsince the news of the first death had come to Justice Higginbotham'scamp and the police had not a single shred of evidence linking themurders to any one.

  Professor Brierly's name did not have a prominent part in any ofthe stories he had read. Jimmy knew why. Professor Brierly wasaverse to being quoted unless he had something definite to say. Henever gave an opinion unless it was an opinion based on fact thatone could "go to court with."

  The first flaming headlines had featured Professor Brierlynecessarily, since it was he who had pointed out the fact that twoof the deaths were murders.

  * * * * *

  Jimmy, late that Sunday afternoon, went once more to the camp ofJustice Higginbotham. The large, comfortable cottage, with itsgraceful furniture, its books, its meager, comfortable furnishings,was a house of death, dread and horror. Its inhabitants were afraid ofone another. The opening of a door, any untoward noise, the ringingof the telephone, caused most of them to jump and look aboutapprehensively. In sheer bravado, they, one at a time, went out of thehouse either to walk about the rough ground, or to go to Lentone.

  A visit to the police station there bore no fruit. Brasher wasred-eyed, haggard and in a vicious humor. Boyle had closed upafter his first talk with Brasher and he now refused to addanything to what he had already told him, or to retreat an inchfrom his position.

  With Brasher's permission, Jimmy tried to interview him. Boyle wasnot now the suave, smooth, modern type crook. He had had ampletime to realize fully the dangerous position he was in. He knewthat this was not a case of an ordinary murder, or of the murderof one gangster by another. He knew that the nation was arousedover these murders, and that he would stand very little chancebefore a jury unless he could build up a stronger defense than hepossessed, or find a more plausible alibi.

  Boyle swore at Jimmy with an understandable wrath. He poured outhis hopelessness and rage in obscenities that made even thehardened newspaper man wince. He cursed Jimmy, the police,Professor Brierly, McCall, everything and everybody to which hecould lay tongue. Jimmy looked at him pityingly, understandingly,and left him, raging and cursing.

  Jimmy decided to go home and bask in the camp's domestic quiet.Tommy Van Orden, under his mother's adoring eyes, was trying, inimitation of his big Uncle Jack, to teach the puppy to wipe itspaws.

  The three men were on the porch. Professor Brierly, in anexpansive mood, was enlarging on one of his favorite conversationaltopics.

  "Education! Education has become a mere form. There was a time inthis country, even in this country, when a boy or girl went to aninstitution of higher learning for only one reason: to get aneducation. And now! Stadia and bowls instead of laboratories andclassrooms. Physical perfection has become a fetish and that isbeing highly commercialized.

  "When Einstein delivers an important pronouncement, anannouncement that is of universal importance, the papersfacetiously give it a few paragraphs. But when a center receivesthe football and runs several hundred yards with it, the papersget hysterical--"

  "A center, Professor? Several hundred yards?" murmured Matthews.

  Professor Brierly glared at him. Matthews gently corrected him:

  "A center wouldn't be permitted to receive a pass, or run severalhundred yards or--"

  "Well, the tacklers, then, or the guardsmen."

  "Nor the tackles or guards, Professor," murmured Matthews.


  "Keep quiet!" snapped Professor Brierly. "What difference does itmake. The point I am making is that the mass is taught to pay toomuch attention to perfectly inconsequential things while theyignore or overlook the things of sound worth.

  "You can get, at most, only a handful of persons to listen to asound informative lecture, whereas seventy thousand persons willsit in a freezing rain to watch Cagle, of Southern California, orGrange, of Yale--"

  Matthews again interrupted:

  "Better not make it public, Professor, that Cagle played on theTrojans team, or Grange for old Eli. If it became known--"

  "You are the saddest commentary of the truth of what I am saying,"snarled the old scientist. "How can a person know the worthwhilethings when he stores his mind with such trivial--you know far toomuch of such things, young man."

  Martha came to the door and told Jimmy that he was wanted on thetelephone. She also emphatically gave it as her opinion that a manwho spoke as did the caller on the telephone was no gentleman.

  With the utterance of his "Hello," Hite's growl came over thewire.

  "The way you act anyone would think that you were on a vacation.Where the hell were you? I've been trying to get you in all theplaces you should be if you're on the job. I was at the club andjust got a flash that something big broke, something in connectionwith the Tontine group. I've been trying to get you. Where thehell were you?"

  "Just came from the police station a few minutes ago, chief. Whatis it?"

  "How the hell do I know what it is? Who's on the story, you or I?I called up the police, every department, from the cops up. Ican't get a word out of 'em. I know something big broke the waythey act. They've had orders to shut down tight; that's why Ican't get a word. There isn't a man in the office beside myself.There's somebody down in the business office who's taking care ofthe switchboard. I can't go out because I may miss a call.

  "Step on it! Scurry around and see what it is. And keep in touch.Call up every few minutes."

  Jimmy hung up the receiver and stood at the instrument in thought,holding the receiver in its hook as though he would getinspiration from the lifeless instrument. He had learned to have aprofound respect for Hite's tips. Hunch or flash, whatever it was,it was undoubtedly something. He started swiftly for the hotel inLentone, where many of the newspaper representatives congregated.If anyone among them knew of something to justify Hite'sexcitement, he would show it in some way. There would be atension, a restlessness that would give the secret away.

  The first look at the large group of men and women lolling on thewide verandah of the hotel convinced Jimmy that none of these knewof anything big breaking. News sleuths, do not act the way thesedid with something big. They are up and moving.

  He went back to the police station. There was nothing new there.He called up Justice Higginbotham's camp and spoke to McGuire.There was nothing there. He called up Professor Brierly.

  Jack, who answered the phone, assured him that everything waspeaceful there also.

  He called up the office again. This time he was connected directlywith the city room. When he identified himself his eardrums werealmost shattered by the howl that came over the wire:

  "Flynn was murdered an hour ago!" Hite yelled.

  Jimmy's body stiffened as if a live galvanic battery had beenapplied to it. Flynn, murdered? With guards near by, men who hadbeen warned and ordered--Jimmy, trained as he was to disaster andtragedy in all its forms, somehow could not accept this. He saidinanely:

  "Flynn, murdered? Did you say Flynn, chief? Why he--"

  "What the hell is the matter with you, are you drunk? Yes," theword came in a hiss. "I said Flynn, William Flynn, the member ofyour Tontine group we were warned to guard."

  "But wasn't he guarded?"

  "Yes, he was guarded. Two of his guards were in his house withhim. Three were outside." Jimmy had been leaning weakly againstthe instrument as if for support. Now he came out of it. He wasthe alert newspaper man.

  "How about the guards, chief? How did it happen?"

  "The guards were blown to hell with him. He was picked up in eachstate as soon, as he crossed the border. The Federal man was withhim all the time. He had to transact some important business witha nephew in Orange, New Jersey. He went there first, under guard.Then he went home, to Pleasantville. There was no one there; thehouse had been closed up. About three or four minutes after he gotthere there was an explosion that blew the entire dwelling tokindling wood. The two guards, one of them a state trooper, andone of them a Federal man, were killed with him. There wasn'tenough left of him or them to put in a bushel basket.

  "The police have a drag net out. All the roads, all the railroads,all the airports are guarded. The river and the water front, everywharf in New York and New Jersey is taken care of. You would thinka flea couldn't get through. They've picked up hundreds of men."

  "What do you want me to do, Chief?"

  "I don't know, but _get around_, see the members of the Tontinegroup. Persuade Professor Brierly to come down here if he can; theplane is still up there and is at his disposal. And by the way,Jimmy, if he consents to come, unless there is something up therethat needs your personal attention, come with him. You seem to bethe only person who can get along with him or get anything out ofhim. Step on it. I'll stay here until I hear from you, at anyrate."

  Professor Brierly listened carefully to Jimmy's swift explosivesentences in which he transmitted the high lights of the tragedyfour hundred miles away. As he had done on a former occasion,Professor Brierly acceded at once to the request that he go downby plane to view the scene of the explosion.

  While Jimmy made the telephone call for the plane, the Professorwas getting himself in readiness for the flight. He looked up insurprise as he saw Matthews also in the act of preparing for ajourney.

  "Where are _you_ going, John?"

  "Going with you, Professor. Jimmy tells me it's a cabin plane thatwill accommodate six or seven passengers."

  Professor Brierly looked at him suspiciously. Matthews' featureswere etched in grave lines. The big, blond young giant lookedrather grim. Jimmy looked on in surprise at this scene, which hecould not understand. Professor Brierly dissented impatiently.

  "Nonsense, John. What need is there for you to go?"

  Matthews answered quietly: "Sorry to disagree with you, Professor,but I'm going along."

  Professor Brierly, after glaring speechlessly at his adopted son,shrugged his shoulders and continued getting himself in readiness.Jimmy followed Matthews out to the porch. He asked quietly:

  "What is this, Jack? I don't get it at all."

  Matthews looked at him without trying to conceal his contempt.

  "A hell of a bright newspaper man you are! It was ProfessorBrierly who pointed to the fact that Miller's and Schurman'sdeaths were murders. If not for that, Flynn's death might havebeen put down to some accident.

  "I wouldn't feel at all comfortable having the old gentleman godown there alone. It's true he'll have you there, Jimmy. You're agood little man and you've got plenty of guts, but I'll feelbetter, lots better, if I am with him personally."

  "Well, what was he sore about?"

  "He's sore because he knows why I'm going and he hates to be takencare of. We had some words about his going day before yesterday.He's a cocky old guy, as you know, isn't afraid of any singlething on earth and it galls him to have me go along to playnursemaid. Well, he can just be sore. I'm not going to leave hisside." He paused and then said slowly:

  "Jimmy, I don't like this. I don't like it a damn bit. Birds whowill play this kind of a game, with several million dollars atstake, who will plan murders like these, won't stop at anything.And there's no question about it that the Professor has interferedwith their plans somewhat. I repeat, Jimmy, I don't like it a damnbit. In all those things you got him into I never had quite thesame feeling I have now. I'm really afraid for him.

  "Well, I'm going to be with him and I'm likely to take drasticaction first and talk afterward if someone makes a su
spiciousmove."

  Jimmy soberly nodded. His absorption in the story had made himoverlook this ramification of it. He could see that it was highlyprobable that Professor Brierly might be in as great danger as wasany member of the Tontine group.

  The pilot of the amphibian, when he taxied up to the wharf, toldJimmy that arrangements had been made that he land the plane on afield belonging to John Mallory, amateur sportsman and airman,whose estate was close to the home of William Flynn, atPleasantville.