The Fall Guy

by Joe Barry

  Leslie shook her head and took another swallow of the green liquid.

  Jago shrugged his shoulders resignedly. “Very well, we must continue our search. You three men first. Stand up, please.”

  Merwin, Mr. Germaine and Rush stood near the center of the room. The elder Germaine seemed in a daze. He was barely conscious of the things happening in his home. Big Mick told off men to help and a simultaneous search was conducted. The gems were on none of the three.

  Jago’s voice, as he spoke, was tinged with hardness. “We now have only one alternative,” he said. “We must search the women. I had hoped to avoid this indignity. Myrna, my dear, will you come here?”

  Jago’s dark, beautiful daughter crossed the room to him. Her eyes opened in surprise. “I’m sorry, my dear, but this is necessary. I will search you, then you must search Hope and Miss Germaine. It is the only way.”

  Obediently Myrna submitted to the search. Swiftly Jago ran his hands over her. Under the watchful eyes of Big Mick he missed not a single possible place of concealment which could have concealed the emeralds. It was over in a few seconds. Jago stood back and beckoned to Hope.

  “You’re next, Hope.”

  There was a sullen look on Hope’s face as she walked to Myrna Jago and stood passively as the dark girl searched her thoroughly. A minute later Myrna stood back and shook her head. The emeralds were not on Hope.

  As if by common consent every head in the room turned and all eyes came to rest on Leslie who smiled a sardonic smile and rose from the divan.

  “I’m next I guess,” she said and walked to Rush. “Hold my glass, will you? Take a drink, it’s very refreshing.” She handed him the glass of creme de menthe and walked to Myrna Jago. “All right, sister. Make with the search.”

  Rush watched closely as Myrna ran careful hands over Leslie’s slim body. Unconsciously he raised the glass in his hand to his lips and drank. He sputtered in surprise at the taste of the liquid. He had forgotten it was creme de menthe, which he disliked intensely. He took his handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his lips and looked down at the glass. He looked more closely, covering a start of surprise with an effort. Then without pause he lifted the glass once more to his lips and opening his mouth wide, swallowed the contents in a single draught. Carefully he patted his lips again with his handkerchief and returned it to his hip pocket. In the center of the room the search had again proved fruitless. On inspiration Jago went to the divan Leslie had lain on and searched it thoroughly, with no success. He turned back to Big Mick and held a whispered conference. Then he turned back to the occupants of the room. Their eyes were intent upon him with various degrees of expectancy. He addressed himself to the elder Germaine.

  “Mr. Germaine, if you have any influence with your daughter, will you persuade her to give us the information we require? The value of the emeralds can mean nothing to a man of your wealth. I am at a loss to understand why they mean so much to your daughter. I can only believe that she is temporarily unbalanced. I am strongly opposed to the use of force. But you must see that we are determined and will stop at nothing.

  Germaine, who had listened dully, turned his head slowly to look at his daughter. She shook her head, a slow, undecipherable smile on her lips.

  “They can’t hurt me. Let them go, dad. I won’t tell them anything.”

  Jago narrowed his eyes and swung to Wilmer with decision.

  “Go put a pan of water on the stove to boil, Wilmer. We’ll see how long she will hold out with her feet in boiling water. If that doesn’t work we’ll try hot grease. Hurry, Wilmer, it is getting late.”

  Wilmer left the room and Rush came to a decision.

  “How do you get to leave the room, Jago? Raise one finger or two?”

  “You are quite humorous, Mr. Henry. I will send one of the boys with you. The bathroom on this floor has no window, I believe. He will wait outside the door.”

  Rush picked up a newspaper that lay on a low stand.

  “I don’t suppose you’ll mind if I take this. It’s an old habit of mine that I hate to break.”

  “Not at all, Henry. Enjoy yourself.” He told a gunman to go along, and Rush went down the entrance hall to the bathroom.

  Inside he locked the door and turned to survey his surroundings. Set in one wall was a medicine cabinet. It was inset, with the mirror flush with the wall. Without a second’s hesitation he emptied the cabinet, carefully placing its contents in the bowl. Then with a fingernail file he loosened the screws holding it in the wall and removed the cabinet itself. Leaning forward he could see that there was a space of almost six inches separating two walls. Instantly he began wadding paper and stuffing it in the airspace between the two walls. The entire operation took only a few minutes. Then, whistling softly to himself he struck a match and held it to the paper. He lit it in several places and waited. It burned slowly at first; then as a draft built up it roared up the space between the walls. Ancient lath set in plaster took fire and added to the fury of the flame. In sixty seconds the fire had spread along the whole wall. Feeling the plaster inside the bathroom, Rush could trace its path along the whole upper wall. It was a job well done he felt. With an eye to detail he flushed the toilet and without a backward glance unlocked and swung open the door, closing it quickly behind him.

  “Sumpin’ burnin’ in there, chummy?” asked his guard.

  “I dropped a cigarette on some paper, fit’s out now.”

  The guard was satisfied and led Rush back to the living room. Wilmer was just walking across the floor with a pan full of steaming water. Rush took one fast step and tripped him. He fell headlong into the pan of water, spilling it over the deep pile of the priceless rug.

  “Sorry, old boy,” said Rush. “I must have slipped.”

  Wilmer came slowly to his feet, his face distorted in rage and pain. His hand went to the arm Rush had nicked the day before.

  “I’ll kill you for this. So help me, I’ll kill you.” His hand went to his inner coat. Jago laid a restraining hand on Wilmer’s arm.

  “That can wait, Wilmer. We’ve more important things to do. Go boil more water. Mr. Henry has only succeeded in delaying us. You can settle your account with him when our work is done.”

  Muttering viciously under his breath Wilmer picked up the pan and returned to the kitchen. Rush lit a cigarette and went to sit down by Mr. Germaine. Under his breath he spoke to the older man.

  “I’m afraid I’ve taken liberties with your house,” he said. “I just set fire to it. It’s an emergency measure but it may get us out of this.”

  Germaine nodded that he understood. He leaned back, puffing his cigarette, waiting. He sniffed the air. There was an unmistakable smell of smoke. Wilmer entered the room with more boiling water. Rush’s voice caught him halfway to Leslie.

  “You’re going to have a much better use for that water, Wilmer, than parboiling young ladies. Jago, I’m very much afraid the house is on fire. I got to playing with matches in the bathroom and got a little careless.”

  Jago frowned at him and sniffed. With quick, mincing steps he went to the hall door and threw it open. Smoke hung heavy in the hall. He walked a few steps down the hall and came back coughing.

  “Very wise, Henry. I should have foreseen it. Wilmer, Mick, come quickly. Maybe we can extinguish it before it’s too late.”

  The three of them ran into the hall. They were back in a few seconds.

  “Congratulations, Henry. You are a very efficient arsonist. The whole rear of the house is in flames. I’m afraid we will have to retreat.” He turned to Big Mick. “Where would you suggest we go?”

  “We can’t go to my joint, he’s probably got it planted. Hell, I don’t know where we can go.”

  Jago turned back to Rush, eyeing him speculatively. “I think I have a good idea, an excellent idea. Mr. Henry has a spacious office. The building will be deserted at this time of night. Let us go there and continue our business.” He was almost jovial as he asked. “Will that be agreeable t
o you, Henry?”

  Rush nodded. “Of course. I’ll be charmed to play host. By the way, I don’t suppose it matters greatly, but where the hell are the servants? You aren’t leaving them tied up somewhere in the house, are you?”

  “Oh, no,” said Jago. “They’ll be quite safe. They are in the garage.”

  Two of Germaine’s cars were commandeered and, with the car which had brought Jago’s party, it made quite a cavalcade that turned out of the long driveway and headed down the darkened streets, just as a faint glow began to flicker and grow at the rear of the Germaine mansion.

  Rush knew that Carnahan would hear of the fire and investigate. He wondered how long before he would descend on Rush’s office to ask questions. It would have to be soon—to be soon enough.

  20

  Rush sat behind his desk and looked at the strange collections of humans inhabiting his office. Motley, he decided, was the word for this crew. A few minutes before, they had parked cars on the street below and with the aid of Rush’s key entered the silent building. One unfortunate caretaker had seen them. He was now bound and gagged in a mop closet on the first floor. So far as Rush knew, their entrance had been otherwise unobserved. He had, however, great confidence in Carnahan. Finding them was the kind of thing the police did best. All he needed was time. He interrupted Jago who was just about to speak.

  “Okay, Jago. Let me take over for a minute or two.” Jago looked at him in surprise. “Sit down.”

  There was a new note of command in Rush’s voice. Jago sat down, then shook his head in wonder at his own action. Rush leaned forward with his elbows on the desk.

  “I know where the emeralds are,” he said. It was a bombshell. Ten faces changed in various shades of surprise. Leslie opened her mouth, then shut it. Her eyes were reproachful. “Yes,” he said. “I can get them in less than half an hour. In the meantime, I’ll run the meeting. It’s time we stopped playing games.”

  “You astound me, Henry,” interposed Jago. “I had no idea that you knew the whereabouts of the emeralds.”

  “I’m afraid I’m going to astound you even more,-Jago. This has ceased to be your party. Before I turn up the rocks I want a murderer.” He let the words fall and sat back in his chair. Eyes shifted around the room. There was utter silence as Rush leaned forward to speak again.

  “Somebody here killed Paul Germaine. Before anybody leaves this room I want that person in handcuffs.” He reached in the desk drawer before him and took out handcuffs which he threw on the desk top. “Does anybody want to try them on for size?” The room was silent.

  “All right, let’s put it this way. Jago, you want those stones pretty badly. Who would you suggest as a fall guy? Give me a murderer I can hang and they’re yours.”

  Jago was taken aback. It was the first time Rush had seen him completely at a loss.

  “Why, you amaze me, Henry. I was under the impression that Otho Brin”had killed young Germaine.” Rush looked at him speculatively.

  “That statement either clears you or you are a very fine actor, Jago. Brin was knifed in this office yesterday afternoon at five o’clock. He’s been in residence in the morgue for thirty-some hours.”

  “Brin dead?” Jago’s surprise was genuine, or Rush was mistaken. But the man’s sigh of relief was heartfelt. “Then we have no competition. When we get the stones they are ours.”

  Rush picked up a yellow slip of paper which had been on his desk when he sat down. “Not quite, Jago. You will still have competition.” He tapped the paper. “This is a wire from Washington. I checked your story of the air raid on Kol Napur with an old friend of mine there. This is his answer. Your story checks clear through. There is a complication though. The Government wants the stones. It seems the natives of Kol Napur are quite anxious to have their emeralds back. And, in the Interests of international harmony, the Government is anxious to send them back. I’d consider Uncle Sam quite a little competition.”

  Jago had frozen as Rush spoke. Now he shook himself slightly and straightened in his chair.

  “That is an unforeseen complication. However, I am determined. I will have those emeralds.”

  Big Mick looked at him incredulously. “You mean you’re going up against the Feds?”

  Jago nodded. “Yes! I have spent too much time and money on those stones to let them slip away now, so that a band of ignorant savages five thousand miles away can be pacified.”

  Big Mick shook his head. “Not me. I been up against them before. They never give up. Count me out.” He rose and signaled to his men. “Come on, boys, we’re hiding.”

  Rush stood up. “Nice of you to have dropped in, boys. If you keep it clean on the way out I may forget a few things. Otherwise you’ll have callers in the morning.”

  Big Mick nodded that he understood, then at the head of his troops he filed out of the office.

  “Does this change your plans any, Jago?” asked Rush.

  “Not one whit. I want the emeralds and I mean to have them. You realize of course that Wilmer and I still hold the only guns in the room. If necessary we can force you to tell us where the emeralds are hidden.”

  “That I doubt,” said Rush. “I’ve taken so many guns away from Wilmer that it’s a reflex action now, and I don’t think you’ve got the guts to shoot, Jago, so just sit still. As I said, this is my party now.” He shook a cigarette from a package and lit it. “Let’s consider the facts. In the best detectival tradition,

  I will recapitulate. Brin, who was possibly the most dangerous and ruthless, also knew the least about the whereabouts of the emeralds. By chance, he stumbled onto Paul Germaine. He made a date to meet him downstairs. Germaine probably picked the spot, since he intended to visit me and ask for protection. I turned Germaine down because he neither had money nor was willing to tell me his name. He left, and five minutes later was knifed in the alley. Now, there was no reason to enter the alley. His appointment was on the street, just a few doors away. Brin was waiting for him. In his mental condition it is unlikely that Germaine would have gone into the dark alley without some strong motive. He certainly wouldn’t have gone in there with Brin whom he didn’t know. Obviously, then, he was decoyed in there by someone he knew and trusted, at least partially. Probably someone he knew in another connection and didn’t suspect of an interest in the emeralds. Now, look over the cast. They’re all here in this room. Which of you could have persuaded Paul to go into that alley?”

  Jago spoke excitedly. “His sister, of course. It’s obvious. He knew her. She could talk him into anything. She has the emeralds. She has absolutely no conscience. She has ambitions to become a master criminal. What is more logical than to suspect that she murdered her brother? She has no affection for anybody but herself.”

  “That’s a very neat theory, Jago. I had it myself for quite a while. But why kill Brin? The same person did for both of them, of that I’m sure. As a matter of fact she knew he didn’t have the stones with him. If I’m not mistaken she already had them then.” He looked at Leslie. “He gave you a package to hide for him, didn’t he?” Leslie nodded. “And being female you looked in the package.” Rush looked thoughtfully at Jago. “No, she had no reason to kill her own brother.”

  “No?” Jago was excited. “Maybe she killed him so she wouldn’t have to give back the emeralds.” His voice rose as the thought grew. “Maybe Brin saw her and tried to blackmail the stones from her and she killed him.”

  “That’s partly true too, Jago. But you’re missing one trick. Brin was killed while searching this office. He was looking for the stones. Previously he had searched my apartment and knocked out Hope while at it. He didn’t know who had the stones. If he had been blackmailing Leslie, he wouldn’t have done all that searching. No, Jago. I’m afraid Leslie is out of it.”

  Leslie, who had been on the edge of her seat, settled back with a sigh. Her father relaxed into his apathy.

  “Then, I don’t see—“ began Jago.

  “You will. Let me go a little further. P
aul didn’t know you, Jago, which fortunately lets you out. He didn’t know your daughter-He knew Wilmer, but only slightly. I doubt if he would have gone into a dark alley with as ugly a character as Wilmer.” Wilmer spit on the floor. “You,” he said. His good hand went over to caress the arm Rush had shot the night before. “Keep talking,” he said. “When you’re through I’m going to fog you.”

  “I’ll take bets on that,” said Rush. “But, back to business. Don’t you see where we have arrived, Jago?” The pudgy man shook his head. “No,” he said. “I am at a loss to choose your victim.”

  Rush shook his head. “It’s right there before your eyes, Jago. I’ve known since the minute I found Brin dead in my chair who the murderer was.” He half-turned in his seat. “Don’t you think it’s time we quit kicking it around, Hope? You’re all done, you know!” Hope laughed. “I knew you were leading up to something like this. It’s a neat frame, Rush, but you can’t make it stick. I could dig up just as good a case against you.”

  Rush nodded. “Yes, you almost could except that I’m in the clear on Brin. Leslie was with me at the time he got it. I wouldn’t have knifed him. He was part of my alibi for Paul. No, Hope. This time I can make it stick. You followed Paul, thinking he was carrying the stones. You decoyed him into the alley. He was a pushover for a pretty face. You knifed him and searched him. If you’d found the stones Jago would never have seen you again.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say that, Henry,” said Jago. “Hope has been quite loyal.”

  “Is that so? Then how do you explain her climbing into my bed and trying to seduce me into getting the emeralds and blowing with her? She didn’t feel very loyal then.”

  “Is that true, Hope?”

  “Sure, why should I turn them over to you if I could get them myself? You never did anything for me.”

  “I’m sorry to hear you say that, Hope. Now I fear I must tell Mr. Henry the full story.” He turned to Rush. “You see Hope was following young Germaine and Wilmer was following Hope. I trust my people, but it was always well to be sure. Wilmer saw Hope enter that alley and not come out. He couldn’t follow her, for Germaine’s body was found almost immediately. I have said nothing, for I could find no motive for Hope’s killing Germaine. Now I see it all. Brin must have seen her come out of the alley and let her know. She followed him yesterday and killed him to keep quiet. You have always been too impulsive, Hope.”