by Zelda Popkin
The Inspector scratched his head. "Uh-huh. Not kosher. We may turn up something for the bank examiner."
"Of course," said the District Attorney, his thin lips curling with a mild attempt at irony, "you master minds wouldn't consider the possibility that a bank executive might have other sources of income in addition to his salary."
Reilly opened the door. "Inspector," he said, "another man came in just now. He says his name's Horowitz and the District Attorney sent for him. Will you talk to him right now, please? The room outside won't hold another one."
"Certainly," the District Attorney was on his feet. His thin old face was rejuvenated by a happy smile. "Send him in. And send Mrs. McAndrew and her brother in too."
CHAPTER XII
Isie Horowitz wore a visored cap pulled low on an unshaven face, and his bulky clothes were grease soiled and frayed. His coat lapel was adorned with a hackman's badge. He took off his cap diffidently when Mrs. McAndrew came into the room and seated herself beside the desk. Mrs. McAndrew was ghastly white, but her mouth was set and firm. She glanced once at the taxi driver and lowered her head. Boylan followed his sister. His face was redder than before and he mopped his neck with a striped handkerchief.
The taxi driver stared at Boylan intently, uncertainty struggling with satisfaction in his mobile Semitic face. He plucked Boylan's coat sleeve. "Say, excuse me, please," he whispered. "Was you ever in the ring?"
A pleased grin spread over Boylan's countenance. "Sure," he said. "Five years ago."
"Tommy Boyle," Horowitz exulted. "Dat's who you was. I thought it was you last night. I think to myself when you get in my cab 'is this Tommy Boyle or ain't it Tommy Boyle?' You won a finif for me at the Garden one night. That's how I remembered."
"I'm not fighting any more. I retired."
"So I heard," Horowitz said. "I was sorry when I heard it. I thought you'd be the middle weight champ."
"Old friends, eh?" Judge Hodges interrupted. "So you were in the ring," he added with emphasis.
Boylan looked puzzled. He voiced his bewilderment. "Sure," he said. "What's so interesting about that?"
"Oh, you don't know how interesting that is." Judge Hodges chortled, beaming at the detectives. "A very valuable piece of information indeed. Now, Horowitz—you're Horowitz, aren't you—Captain Haines sent you?"
"He told me I should come in right away. I shouldn't change my clothes even."
"That was right. You are a taxi driver?"
"Yes, sir."
"Your full name."
"Horowitz. Isidor Horowitz. Isie for short. My license is in the name Isie." He drew it from his pocket. The police stenographer copied down the name and address.
"And where is your station?"
"I woik most a da time from the hackstand by the railroad station."
"There are two stations in New Rochelle, I believe."
"Yessir, yessir. By the New York, New Haven, I woik. "
"Do you work at night or day?"
"Well, y'see, o-ficially, I am woiking in the daytime. But mine wife, she is in the hospital. She has a bad operation. And I need to have money. So I come back in the night-time. The other drivers know about my wife. Dey don't care if I make an extra dollar."
"Did you receive any calls last night?"
"Yessir. Around five minutes after nine o'clock, I get a call from 445 Glenkagl Road. Somebody wants make a train. They want me I should hurry up. It takes me only five minutes there an' five minutes back to the station. There is a little ice on the road. Maybe it slows me up a minute more."
"Were these people your passengers on that trip?"
Horowitz beamed. "Yessir. Yessir. I think right away I know that man. But from where do I know him? From where? I am a good rememberer. But I think right away. I saw him somewheres. That I was sure. I think maybe I'll ask him. But I don't get the chance. The lady is talking to him all the time."
"Did you overhear anything she said?"
Horowitz turned his head uneasily, "I want you should know I don't listen all the time to what people is saying in mine cab. It ain't mine business. I got to watch the road. Only sometimes, when they talk loud, can I help it if I hear?"
"Did you hear any of the conversation?" Judge Hodges persisted.
"A few woids. Not much." He hesitated. "Must I got to tell you?"
The District Attorney nodded. "It will be best all around if you tell us everything you know."
Horowitz sighed deeply: "Well, I'll tell you. I'll tell you it the best I can remember. I hear her—that lady—you should excuse me, ma'am—I hope it don't get you in no trouble what I'm saying—I hear her say foist to him, 'All I want,' she says it loud, like she's mad, 'is to catch him with her. He promised me he was going to get rid of her. I want to see if he's keeping his woid. I know he's with her tonight.' And him, the man, I hear he says one time, 'Now, Celia, I wouldn't if I was you. Keep cool, Celia.' And anodder time 'What would you do anyways if you did find them togedder?'"
The District Attorney bent forward eagerly. "And what did she say to that?"
"She didn't answer. Not one woid. She only cried."
"You saw them board the New York train?"
"Yessir. The 9:25."
"Did you see them again that night?"
"Yessir. They came in on the 12:09. Dot's the theater train. I always meet it. They got in my cab. I drove them to her house."
"Did they speak on the way home?"
"Not one woid. She was crying all the time. And he never said one woid."
Celia McAndrew had listened quietly without giving visible indication that she had heard the taxi driver. When he had finished she threw back her head.
"All right," she said. "Here it is. I did come to New York last night. I
came to the store and I went t Evelyn Lennon's house. I couldn't stay in the house. I was determined to find them together and bring the matter to a show-down, once and for all. Robert and I got to the store sometime around a quarter past ten. We took the 9:25. It gets into Grand Central five minutes to ten. That was my handkerchief that girl found in Andrew's office. I must have dropped there. I came to the store, and I saw there were people inside, but I didn't know how to get in. Robert and I walked all around the block and I tried every door. Two men were coming out of the Fifth Avenue entrance. I recognized one of them. It was Mr. Pursell, the general manager, I believe. Andrew had him up the house for dinner once last year. I didn't recognize the other man, and he left right away, anyway. When Pursell said to me, 'How do you do, Mrs. McAndrew? What brings you here?' the other man said 'good-night' and walked away. I said: 'I've come to meet Andrew. I was to meet him here at quarter past ten.' 'I don't think he's here,' Mr. Pursell said. 'In fact I'm sure he's not. I saw him go out some time ago. Was Miss Lennon with him?' I asked. He laughed at that and said, 'No, she went home at the regular closing time.' Then I begged him to take me upstairs to Andrew's office to see for myself. He went up there with us. There was no one there. Then he let me and Robert out the door and we took a taxicab to Miss Lennon's house. The doorman there told us she was asleep and he couldn't let us up. He rang her apartment and somebody answered, and said no, not to let us up. We waited a little while and then Robert said we had just time enough to make the train and he made me come home. That's what I did last night." She folded her hands and her lips and sat waiting.
Whittaker leaped to his house phone. "Get hold Pursell and tell him we must see him here right away," he shouted.
"Mrs. McAndrew, I'm afraid what you have just told us places you in a very difficult position," said the District Attorney. His voice was still gentle, but the was a look of triumph on his thin face.
"I was afraid so," said Celia McAndrew. "You know I did not kill Andrew.
And I don't know who did it. But I'm afraid I stepped right into it."
Robert Boylan jumped to his feet and commenced to gesticulate wildly. "We never even saw Andrew last night. Mr. Pursell will tell you. Maybe Andrew was here, but we did
n't see him."
Pursell walked into the room. He looked about with a stern air. His gaze came to rest on Mrs. McAndrew and his brows rose a fraction of an inch. He advanced toward her, with hand extended. "Mrs. McAndrew," he said with apparent solicitude, "this is a sad occasion indeed."
She seized his hand gratefully. "Mr. Pursell, I'm glad you're here. Please tell them. Please tell the District Attorney that we didn't see Andrew at all when we came here last night."
Pursell released her hand. He stepped backward. "I'm sorry, Mrs. McAndrew," he said coldly. "I'm very sorry I can't quite do that. I don't know whether you saw your husband or not last night. You see, gentlemen" (he turned toward the District Attorney and the detectives), "I admitted Mrs. McAndrew and her brother to the store last night, indicated the way to McAndrew's office and I did not see them again after that. I have no knowledge of what happened after they entered the store."
"Lies," murmured Celia McAndrew wearily. "Lies. The cross I must bear for Andrew's wrongdoing."
Mary Carner regarded her with quiet sympathy, but when she spoke it was to the general manager. "Which elevators were running last night?" she asked.
"Two, I believe, Miss Carner. One on the Forty-sixth Street side; one in the center."
"You've no idea which one they took?"
"Probably the center. The Forty-sixth Street was being used by the charwomen and porters."
"Why, he took us up himself," Robert Boylan exploded. "He switched on the elevator light and took us up himself. I said to him, 'You could get a job as an elevator operator if you lost yours,' and he laughed at that. He himself opened the front door for us and let us out after we saw Andrew wasn't there."
Pursell smiled. "I let them in," he repeated. "I haven't any idea who let them out."
"Mr. Pursell," Mary Carner put in again, "did you tell Mrs. McAndrew that you had seen her husband leave this store last night? She told us you said to her: 'I don't think he's here. In fact, I'm sure he's not. I saw him go out some time ago.'"
Pursell shrugged his shoulders. "Possibly I did say that. I don't know."
"But, obviously, if Andrew McAndrew was dead or dying at that time, in the back of the store (and the Medical Examiner places the time of his death at about twelve hours before we found the body—sometime between nine and eleven) you could not have seen him leave."
"Miss Carner, I am not under any obligation to subject myself to your cross examination."
Mary Carner subsided with a frown and a flush of annoyance. "I'm sorry, Mr. Pursell. I hadn't realized. If I was exceeding my authority, I'm sorry.
"But since the matter has been brought up, and in order to leave the situation perfectly clear," the general manager went on, "I was about to add that I saw Mr. McAndrew leave his office on the eighth floor shortly before ten o'clock last night. He had his hat and overcoat on and I assumed he was going home."
"Did you see him go down on the elevator?"
"Was he alone?"
"Did anyone else see him?"
The three detectives flung their questions at him simultaneously.
"One at a time. I did not see him get on the elevator. I saw him in his office as I passed by. I was on my way from a conference in Mr. Blankfort's office. McAndrew was alone in his office. I don't know who else saw him at that time, later or before."
"You are certain he was leaving?"
"He said good night to me as I passed."
"But you didn't actually see him leave the store?"
"No, not exactly."
"It was an assumption on your part that he was going home?"
"Probably. A natural assumption. When a man dressed in hat and coat says good night you assume he is about to depart."
"The District Attorney's face bore a perplexed and anxious look.
"Obviously," he began, "there is no reason."
"Exactly," Pursell supplemented testily, "there is no reason why I should say. I saw him leaving, if he wasn't, any more than I should have reason to deny going upstairs with them if I had actually gone up with them."
"Unless..." began Inspector Heinsheimer, thoughtfully.
"Unless, what?" Pursell was shouting now. "Unless I killed McAndrew. I say, gentlemen, this situation really becoming preposterous. I come down here in all good faith to assist you in solving a crime, and myself subjected to an embarrassing inquisition."
"Cripes," the Inspector muttered. "I never saw such a pack of sore heads in my life. There isn't person we've talked to in this store today who hasn't taken this murder as a personal insult. Listen, the police department didn't commit this crime. We're only trying to solve it. Jeez, if we didn't examine every single person who was within five miles of the scene and if we didn't follow up every clue, fellows like you would be the first to yap at us for negligence."
Pursell took a case from his pocket and lighted a cigarette. He took a single puff and then put it down on Whittaker's ash tray and said: "All right, gentlemen. I'm sorry I lost my temper. You've got to realize that I have plenty of things on my mind today. If I'm edgy today, lord knows, I have plenty of right to be."
"Just one more question, please," Chris persisted. "Do you think, Mr. Pursell, that McAndrew was aware of the existence of that back passage through the salesmen's store room where his body was found?"
"I can't say what McAndrew knew or did not know about the store. He was connected with this establishment for seven years. I have reason to believe that he was familiar with the entire place. As you know, Mr. Whittaker, there are no secret passages in this store."
"Where did you go after you admitted Mrs. McAndrew and Mr. Boylan?"
"Oh lord, must I remember every step I took last night? I was on my way home and I went home."
"And you did not hear any noise or other suspicious sound in the rear of the store, after Mrs. McAndrew and Mr. Boylan entered the store?"
"I couldn't. I went home, I tell you."
"Who was the person with you at the door when you greeted Mrs. McAndrew?"
"The gentleman with me," said Pursell, slowly and with dignity, "was my employer, Mr. Blankfort."
The Inspector pursed his lips and drummed on the desk. "Did he recognize Mrs. McAndrew?" he asked.
"I do not believe he did. Mrs. McAndrew has not participated to any great extent in our store activities—even our social activities—and I doubt he had occasion to know her."
"But he knew who she was when you greeted her."
"Possibly. If he heard my greeting. But he may not have heard it. He was very preoccupied last night. He had just come from an important meeting."
"I see. Another question, please. From your personal knowledge, can you recall any of the store employees who were in the rear of the store after nine o'clock?"
Pursell hesitated: "Whittaker, you were here as well as I was last night. You'd know as much about that as I did. It was your business to know where everybody was last night. Forgive me for calling it so publicly to everyone's attention, but our sharp eyed chief detective was officially on duty here, at the very time this attack on McAndrew is supposed to have taken place."
Whittaker’s face reddened: "Looks bad for me. But it isn't," he said. "I stayed right with the window trimmers. We know our men and we trust them—but still you never can tell."
"And you didn't see Mrs. McAndrew and her brother?"
"No, I didn't. Around ten o'clock the last of the 46h Street windows was being finished, and I was over there. And I can't, to save myself, think of any good reason for McAndrew's presence in the passage at the back of the store last night unless he went there deliberately."
"For privacy?"
"Exactly. And with someone whom he knew and trusted. If he had gone unwillingly or if he had been forced to go it seens logical to suppose there would have been some sort of outcry or scuffle which would have attracted attention."
"Well," the District Attorney bent forward with a satisfied expression on his face, "with whom would he go more willingly than wi
th his wife and brother-in-law? From knowledge we already have I think it is possible to reconstruct exactly what happened. Mrs. McAndrew and Mr. Boylan met Mr. McAndrew in his office, went down on the elevator with him—he may have operated it himself. Mr. McAndrew, for reasons of his own, may have suggested the back passage as an exit." He beamed as he talked. "In a quarrel and struggle that took place, I know Mr. Boylan, the ex-pugilist, was no mean antagonist. That, I think you will find, is exactly what happened. Inspector," he finished triumphantly, "I urge you to have Mrs. Celia McAndrew and Robert Boylan taken to headquarters at once for further questioning in connection with the murder of Andrew McAndrew. Your crime, gentlemen, is solved." He rose and reached for his hat.
"Good God," Robert Boylan sprang forward. "Good God. You can't pull that."
"Mr. Boylan," the District Attorney paused, "it is my duty to warn you..."
"I know," said Celia McAndrew wearily, "that anything we say may be used against us. It has already..."
A policeman put his hand on Mrs. McAndrew's arm. She shuddered. "No. No. Don't touch me." She jerked her hand away and raised it to her face. Her voice was a frantic whisper. "Must I suffer like this so that the truth may come out?"
"Take them downtown," the District Attorney said gravely. "Take a cab. I'll be down in a little while."
Pursell's eyes followed them somberly as they moved out of the office. He turned back to the District Attorney. "I trust," he said, "that the business of Jeremiah Blankfort and Company can now go on as usual."
"Not yet, Mr. Pursell. I believe these two people have some guilty knowledge of this crime, but it takes a little more than we know at the present time to get a Grand Jury to act. We're just beginning to get somewhere. It will be necessary to round up all persons who were in the store last night to find out whether any of them saw or heard anything which may have a bearing on this affair."