by Helen Wells
Time went by. Cherry watched even more closely than before. When a taxi pulled up in the driveway and waited, it seemed to her that this same yellow taxi with one huddled occupant had paused outside her window a few minutes earlier.
On an off-chance, Cherry hurriedly paid for her coffee and walked out of the coffee shop. She saw out of the corner of her eye that the man with the newspaper had left, and the two men at the counter still sat there. She moved into the driveway, and Pell called out in a low voice:
“Hello, there! Please come over and get in.”
The man in the taxi wore glasses and a hat pulled low over his face, but she recognized Pell’s heavyset figure. She was reluctant to get in a car with him. He might try to flee by car, and if the police had to shoot, she’d be caught in the cross fire. Pell might even use her as a shield.
“Get in,” he insisted softly, and swung the taxi door open.
She had no choice. She realized Pell was not such a fool as to get out of the taxi and try to flee on foot. She got in, and trusted that the tiny microphone on her wrist was working.
Pell apologized for being late. “I decided we could talk more privately in a taxi, so if you don’t mind—”
He tapped the driver on the shoulder and handed him a folded bill. Apparently the financial arrangements had been settled beforehand. The taxi started to move.
“Where are we going?” Cherry demanded.
“We’re just going for a ride, while we talk. I’ll drop you off at your hotel, and come back here to pick up my car. Listen, Miss Ames, I hope you didn’t believe Ogden—”
She resignedly leaned back against the seat as the taxi circled out of the parking lot.
“No, Mr. Pell, I don’t believe Ogden,” Cherry said. “I think it’s a shame he talked to you the way he did. I know what a lot the Pell Plan has done for Mrs. Wilmot—”
“Good girl.” The taxi shot out of the parking lot onto Lake Shore Drive. Pell called out to the driver, “Stay in the fast lane! Now, Miss Ames, tell me as one friend to another. Are you still in touch with John Ogden? Did he—er—go to the Securities people this morning? I have to know.”
“No, he didn’t,” Cherry said, looking into Pell’s face with a show of sympathy. “And, yes, I know where to reach him.”
Pell’s hand closed warmly over hers. “Will you help a much-misunderstood man? Can you talk Ogden out of making a complaint? Can you talk some sense into him? Listen, I’m rich, I can easily meet all claims—make him see I’m an honest man—”
A car in the slow lane caught up to them. Their taxi driver increased his speed. Cherry was unable to see whether the other car still followed. Pell watched, then went on:
“Of course you wouldn’t press any charges against me, would you? Or let Mrs. Wilmot do that? You have too much good sense—why worry because one customer like Ogden gets scared? Why, I have big money deposited in several banks, three in Chicago alone—” He stopped short.
“I wouldn’t dream of making any charge,” Cherry declared. “Whatever for? Especially since you’re going to return Mrs. Wilmot’s money.”
Pell released her hand. “Yes. Providing neither you nor she presses charges. I might even offer Ogden—See here. Would she accept a third of what’s due her—or even half? And the rest in a week or so?”
“I’ll ask her,” Cherry murmured. To her annoyance, Pell pressed her hand again.
“You’re a nice girl. I’ll show my gratitude for your friendship, believe me. There are a few special plums among my investments and I promise you, Miss Ames, they can be yours.”
“The Colorado dam?” Cherry prompted him.
“Yes, the dam, and American Eagle Lead is a fast-growing business, worth putting your money into.” He had named two unregistered investments. “So is a brand-new shipping firm, just organizing now—” Cherry heard a car behind them come steadily closer. He talked fast. “I’ll make you rich. Trust me. The money you plan to invest—you have it with you, haven’t you?”
Cherry answered in an innocent voice, “I do want to invest with you, Mr. Pell. But naturally I didn’t bring the whole seven thousand dollars to Chicago with me. Only two. And since I was coming out alone so late at night, I left my money in the hotel safe.” He stiffened. She said, “I’ll mail you a check, first thing Monday! Shall I send it to you at the post-office box number? In your name, or—or what?”
He hesitated. “I’ll get in touch with you. I’ll phone you in Hilton next week and give you the details then.”
“I hope you’ll be arrested by then,” Cherry thought. Where were the police? How long must she talk? She saw it was useless to try further to learn any alias, but she noticed something on the taxi seat. On the far side of Pell were two large, bulging briefcases. One was the one he had taken out of his office this morning, apparently stuffed with cash and clients’ checks.
“You certainly are loaded down,” Cherry said, half-humorously, indicating the briefcases.
“Oh, those are my records and list of clients. I always do a little desk work over the weekend.” Pell invited her to notice the luxurious leather of his briefcases. “I live well, Miss Ames. I can afford to. You’ll be able to, too. Listen, about mailing me your check—I may relocate. Another state. So don’t be surprised, Miss Ames.”
By now the taxi was speeding through a dark residential section. Cherry murmured, “I hope you have enough money with you to pay for this long ride.”
Pell chuckled. “I have plenty of money with me.”
“I think you’re terrific,” Cherry breathed. She hid her alarm. The ordinary-looking car beside them was not the same car as before, and now the taxi turned off onto a street that could only lead out of the city. Yet it sped past all the entrances into the Lincoln Highway.
“Take the secondary road,” Pell called out to the taxi driver. “The back road I told you about.”
“Listen, mister, I want the rest of my tip now!” the driver yelled back.
“I’ll give it to you when we reach that private airfield, driver!” Pell shouted. “Then I’ll pay you the fare to drive this young lady back to her downtown hotel.” He turned to Cherry and apologized.
“This is awful for you, I know, and I’m sorry. But you can thank John Ogden for this! I can’t help myself as long as he wants to persecute me—”
The driver, grumbling, swung the taxi onto a dark road that would rapidly lead into open country. Cherry heard another car behind them. Two cars?
“This is an awfully long ride,” she protested to distract Pell. “Really! Dragging me all the way out here!”
Judging by the glow of headlights, the other car was gaining on them. She glanced in the rearview mirror. Yes, two cars were coming. One shot out ahead of their taxi and swung sideways in the road, braking and making a roadblock. The taxi was obliged to slow down. As it did so, the second car drew up alongside and several men leaped out.
“All right, Pell, get out! We have a warrant for your arrest, issued on the complaint of the Illinois Securities Commissioner, on charges of violating the Illinois Securities Law, by operating a get-rich-quick fraud and obtaining money under false pretenses. Get out! You’re under arrest!”
Pell shrugged and climbed out of the taxi.
A police captain came up to Cherry. “Are you all right, Miss Ames?”
“Yes. I—I guess I am, thanks.” She suddenly felt very tired.
“You did a fine job, young lady. You asked exactly the right—”
In the dark road a fight broke out as Pell strained to get free of his captors. The police captain steered Cherry away from the struggling men. He helped her into the rear car.
“We’ll take you home very soon,” he said. “You’ve had enough for one day.”
CHAPTER IX
Final Reckoning
CHERRY ATTENDED CHURCH SERVICES THE NEXT MORNING. When she returned to her hotel room, her traveling clock on the bedside table showed a little past twelve noon. She turned on the radio, just
after the hourly newscast started:
“—and ever since the arrest, the Illinois Securities Division, working with Chicago police, have been questioning self-styled investment adviser, Cleveland Pell. Pell, represented by well-known Chicago defense attorney, Howard Marshall, was questioned for four hours this morning by Securities Division investigators. After a period for sleep during the morning, questioning was to resume today at noon. Pell has told officers that he was on his way last night to a small private plane taxi service which was to fly him to Canada. He said he planned to leave behind his brand-new Cadillac, at the parking lot near Grant Park. Pell laughed at charges of swindling, and insists that the large sum of cash and checks he carried when arrested are his private property. However, Albert Atwood, Chief of the Securities Division office in Chicago, told reporters in the first news release half an hour ago that complaints by one of Pell’s investors, and preliminary secret investigations, point to a billion-dollar confidence racket. Atwood said that Pell was carrying out of the country with him confidential business records and a ‘sucker list’ with thousands of names. Pell’s eight salesmen are being picked up for questioning. This station will broadcast further news as it is released.”
Cherry turned off the radio. She realized the investigation would take time, and wondered whether she would need to remain in Chicago. She half expected Mr. Atwood’s office or someone on Captain Judd’s staff to call her, so she ordered lunch in her room, remaining near the telephone. But no one called, and no further news of the Pell case came over the radio. The story did not appear in the Sunday newspapers, which were printed last night between nine P.M. and two A.M.
So Cherry telephoned the number Mr. Atwood had given her yesterday. She talked with the same man as yesterday.
“We were about to call you, Miss Ames,” he said, “and tell you you’re no longer needed here just now. It’s possible you may be called as a witness, later on. We expect Mrs. Wilmot and Mr. Ogden will be asked to testify. … Yes, you certainly may go home now.”
Cherry was packing her overnight case when the telephone rang. It was John Ogden, concerned to know if she were all right. Cherry said, “Yes, thanks.”
“Well, they caught Pell,” Ogden said, “but these respectable-looking chiselers are slippery customers. There may be a long court battle, because Pell operated just within the law.”
“So that’s why he applied for registration.”
“He never would have gotten it,” John Ogden said. “The Securities Division people hadn’t completed their investigation of Pell’s application—which he cooked up to appear just fine. But Springfield reported late yesterday that they had a lot of doubts and questions about fly-by-night Pell. Mr. Atwood told me that it seems Pell is largely ignorant of business and finance. But he has a con man’s skill at separating people from their money.”
“A con man’s impressive manners and gift of gab.” Cherry could not help laughing a little. “I suppose the great majority of investment houses are honest.”
“Yes, the reputable business firms greatly exceed the Pell type of operator. Don’t place all investment firms in the same category as Pell! The investment business is an essential part of the economy of the United States. These investment firms perform a highly valuable service.”
They chatted a while longer, then said good-bye.
Cherry rode out to the airport and boarded a midafternoon plane that made a stop at Hilton. It was as easy as catching a bus, she thought. Within an hour she was in Hilton, and half an hour after that, she was inside her own house.
“I’m relieved to see you,” her mother said, kissing her.
“I’m glad to be home,” and Cherry hugged her mother. “Glad to be with good people after the miserable character I saw yesterday.”
Mr. Ames and Charlie were at the golf club, her mother said. Cherry would see them at supper, a little while after she unpacked. She turned on the radio for news but heard only the same bulletin as that morning.
Cherry had Peggy Wilmot on her mind. At six thirty, after supper on the wards was over, Cherry telephoned the hospital. On her ward the practical nurse answered. They exchanged hellos, then Cherry asked whether Peggy Wilmot had heard any news of the Pell swindle. Another patient owned a small radio.
“I don’t want Peggy to get upset and sick again,” said Cherry.
“She did hear and was a little nervous,” the PN said. “But Miss Greer kept her calm by pointing out that now the law has moved in, her interests will be protected. And Midge was here all afternoon—she isn’t supposed to be here on Sundays, you know, but she came during visiting hours, and showed us all color snapshots of her neighbor’s trip to the Far West. Midge did Peggy Wilmot a world of good.”
“That’s good news,” Cherry said. “Thanks. See you.”
Cherry had her own supper at home with her parents and her twin brother. They wanted to hear all about Cherry’s Chicago adventure. Mr. Ames was interested in the legal aspects of the case, Charlie was interested in the night ride and the cautious conversation, but Mrs. Ames looked appalled at Cherry’s experience.
The family moved into the living room to see whether the hourly radio newscast would carry any further news of Pell. It did.
“The Securities Division, Chicago office, has revealed the arrest of James Foye, who operated as a salesman in Cleveland Pell’s allegedly fraudulent investment service. Foye was picked up early this morning by the police in Peoria, where he had been selling. A Peoria complainant, John Ogden, supplied police with the name of Foye’s Peoria hotel. Foye was brought to Chicago under arrest on charges of violating the Illinois Securities Law.
“The Illinois Securities Division in Springfield, after checking on Foye, told reporters this afternoon that James Foye has been wanted in Boston and Hartford on charges of stock swindling since last year. Complainants there charged Foye with selling them worthless investments, and supplied a snapshot of Foye, taken on a lobster fishing trip in Maine with some of the complaining witnesses. No arrest was made because Foye disappeared. Foye has been operating in Illinois illegally, without registration, until apprehended today.
“Officers said Foye surrendered without resistance. On the basis of detailed information which Foye gave, and with due process of law, authorities this afternoon located in three Chicago banks and two suburban banks, safe-deposit boxes rented by Pell under an assumed name. Officers said the boxes were carelessly stuffed with thousands of dollars in cash. Revealing confidential records were also unearthed in these secret caches, the Securities Division Chief said.
“Pell has been told that Foye has surrendered and has supplied evidence against him.
“A bulletin just handed us states that another of Pell’s agents, J. L. Nelson, has been arrested in Quincy. His bags were packed as if he were ready to flee.”
The newscaster said police promised further news later tonight, as it developed. Cherry was too sleepy to stay up indefinitely and listen. She had a day’s work to do tomorrow at the hospital, and as her parents said, the Pell story would be in the morning newspaper.
“Better go to bed now,” Cherry’s mother said, “and get up a little earlier tomorrow morning, and read the Pell news then. Good night, dear.”
The Securities Division investigators apparently had worked continuously on the Cleveland Pell case during Sunday afternoon and evening, for in Monday morning’s newspaper Cherry found a full, detailed story.
“Cleveland Pell, self-styled investment wizard who claimed he has twice as much money as needed to pay all his obligations and asserted he made many people rich, last evening admitted the Cleveland Pell Corporation is a fraud.
“Investigation by the Securities Division, according to Albert Atwood, Chief of the Division’s Chicago office, showed that the companies which Pell represented to his victims as investments do not exist. Mr. Atwood said documents describing them were forged by Pell—every move was protected by faked newspaper clippings and letters, faked cashier’s chec
ks, ‘doctored’ photographs. He said Pell merely pocketed the money which deluded investors gave to his so-called salesmen, or mailed to him. He said Pell’s office in Chicago was a sham front.
“The officer described Pell’s modus operandi. He said Pell paid his clients so-called ‘dividends’ of ten percent weekly by the simple method of taking from Peter to pay Paul. He paid Mr. A with some of Mrs. B’s money, keeping most of the money for himself. He paid Mrs. B with some of Mr. C’s money, again keeping most of it for himself, and paid Mr. C with some of Mr. D’s money, and so on. Pell never paid a client more than four dividends, claiming investment losses. The victim had, or believed he had, no legal recourse. When a disgruntled victim dropped out, Pell replaced him with a new victim and went on operating in the same way, in a constant juggling of money. He admitted that eventually he planned to flee the country with the money entrusted to him.
“The only work Pell did was to mail out a few dividends, and thousands of letters and advisory bulletins several times weekly to his sucker list of prospects and clients. His postage bill ran to a thousand dollars a week. The response to his promises of big, quick profits was widespread and growing. The Securities Division estimates that Pell and his crew of slick agents took from Illinois victims twenty-five to forty thousand dollars a week. Reports from victims may enlarge this figure. Pell, using the mails, radio, newspaper advertising, and high-pressure salesmen, could have milked the community of much more if the racket had not been disclosed and stopped in its early stages.