CHAPTER VI--AN UNPROFITABLE AFTERNOON
Verbeck put his car in the garage, returned to his apartment andslept. He awakened at eleven o'clock, rushed through bath andbreakfast, got the car out again, purchased groceries, and whirledaway toward the old house.
There he found Muggs pacing back and forth, with the pistol in hishand, reading the Black Star a lecture on the evils of a nefariousexistence. The Black Star looked disgusted.
"If you're going to keep me prisoner," he told Verbeck, "I'd beobliged if you'd give me another jailer."
"What's the matter with Muggs?"
"Barring the fact that he is insane, he may be all right. I don't wantto be talked to death."
Verbeck gave him a grin for answer and unpacked the groceries. He hadsmall time to spend here, and, taking Muggs into a corner, he bade himbe sure to guard the prisoner carefully.
"You may not see me again until to-morrow morning, Muggs," he said."I'll be busy this afternoon, and to-night I'm going to that housewhere the Black Star has his headquarters and start some plans going."
"You'll be careful, boss?"
"I'll be careful, Muggs. When it comes time for sleep what are yougoing to do here?"
"Stay awake, I guess."
"There is a vegetable pit in the basement, remember. Get plenty ofblankets from the closet and put them there, and make him climb downand sleep on them. You can bolt the trapdoor and sleep in peace herebefore the fire. Careful, now. I'm off!"
At one o'clock he put the car in the garage again, for he had decidedhe'd not use it that afternoon. Precisely at ten minutes of two he wasstanding at the corner on which he had directed the crook the nightbefore to fumble with his hat and await orders.
It happened to be a pet day with shoppers. Traffic officers workedfuriously to keep the crossings free of vehicles; uniformed footmenopened limousine doors and helped well-dressed women across the walksand into shops. Conversations seemed limited to dry goods andbargains.
Verbeck had not remembered how the corner would be thronged when hegave the Black Star's man his orders. The corner now was a jam ofhuman beings. Verbeck crossed the street and stood beside a stonepillar in front of a show window, from where he could watch easily.
The hour of two arrived, and Verbeck scrutinized every man who passedthe corner. Five minutes passed, and no one had given him the signal.And then he saw Howard Wendell, the brother of his fiancee, walkingslowly down the street close to the curbing.
Verbeck drew back quickly behind the pillar. If Howard Wendell sawhim, he undoubtedly would stop to talk, and Verbeck did not want tohold a conversation just then.
Wendell passed without seeing him. He stopped for an instant on thecorner; he removed his hat, and he ran one hand around the brim of itas if brushing away dust.
Verbeck's jaw dropped and his eyes bulged with amazement. The nextinstant he was chuckling at the coincidence of it. There was nopossibility of Howard Wendell being a member of the Black Star's band,of course. The boy accidentally had done what Verbeck had ordered thecrook to do, that was all, and when he came to think of it Verbeckrealized it was a natural thing for any man to do, and wished he hadtold the crook to use some other sign.
Howard Wendell walked on up the street, and Verbeck continued hiswatch. The minutes slipped by, and no other man gave the sign. A doubtentered Verbeck's mind. That boast he had made at the reception--HowardWendell had heard that, and the Black Star had known of it soonafterward. And Howard had given the correct sign.
"Bosh! Can't be!" Verbeck muttered to himself. "I'm a fool to think itfor a minute. Why on earth would Howard be mixed up with a gang ofcrooks? Even if he wanted to be, how could he get into a first-ordergang like that of the Black Star? They'd not have him! I'm crazy tothink of it!"
He looked at his watch; it was a quarter of three. He decided to go tothe hotel where the unknown crook was to hold conversation with MissFreda Brakeland. Perhaps he could decide the matter there, learn thecrook's identity.
The lobby of the hotel was thronged when Verbeck entered. He met menand women he knew, but managed to keep free from lingeringconversation. He wanted to be at liberty to make a completeinvestigation.
Then he met Faustina Wendell face to face.
"Why, Roger!" she gasped. "Fancy meeting you here! I've heard you sayyou hate hotel lobbies."
"I came in to take a peek so I'll hate them more," Verbeck replied."And you?"
"Browning Club meeting, dear."
"It is over already?"
"A quarter of an hour ago. In fact, we met only to postpone it, forevery one is talking of the Charity Ball to-morrow night."
"I see," said Verbeck. He did see--that he had missed his chance tolearn the identity of the crook.
"I came down in the electric," Faustina continued. "Come along homewith me, if you haven't an engagement."
He entered the electric and sat beside her as she piloted the carthrough the busy streets. She was giving all her attention to thedriving, and he did not attempt conversation. And now that her facewas in repose, it seemed to Verbeck that there was a peculiarexpression on it, one that he was not used to seeing. He would havesworn that the girl beside him, who had promised to be his wife, wasanxious, worried--and that was foreign to her nature.
The Wendells had been wealthy once, but were not now. Mr. Wendell haddied two years before, leaving an estate much smaller than wasanticipated. His widow had built a modern apartment house, and from itderived an income, the Wendells living in one of the apartments on thefirst floor. Yet they had enough to maintain their position insociety, and this was an important position, for the Wendells were anold pioneer family, noted for piety and pride.
"You are looking tired," Verbeck observed.
"You're not very complimentary, Roger. Perhaps I am a bit tired,though."
"Too much Charity Ball?" he asked.
"I am not worrying much about that. I intend going, of course."
"I should hope so," Verbeck said.
"Would it disappoint you very much if I said I'd rather not?"
"Nothing you can do will disappoint me," he said loyally; "but Icannot imagine a Charity Ball without you in attendance. Are youthinking of remaining away?"
She was looking ahead, and Verbeck imagined that her lips quivered foran instant.
"Is anything the matter?" he asked. "You don't seem to be yourselfto-day."
"I--oh, it is nothing, Roger! Perhaps I am a bit nervous. Let us talkof something else. Here we are at home. You'll come in, of course?"
He followed her inside, and greeted her mother, who immediately leftthem alone.
"Now," Verbeck said, bending toward her, "tell me what is troublingyou. I can see that there is something."
"Really it is nothing, Roger. Perhaps I am a bit out of sorts.And--what I said about the ball--forget that, please."
"But if you do not wish to go----" he said.
"Can't we decide it to-morrow afternoon, dear? All right--let us leaveit until then. Perhaps I'll be feeling better."
"And there is no trouble--nothing I can do to help?" he persisted.
"Foolish boy! I'm just--just tired."
"Then I'm going to run right away and let you rest. I ought to bedowntown, anyway. I'll telephone the garage for my car."
He went to the telephone and sent in his call, then returned to sitbeside her. She was trying hard to smile and act naturally, butVerbeck knew something was troubling her. But he imagined it might besomething connected with the family finance, and so did not press herfor an answer.
The car came from the garage, and Verbeck left, and drove through thestreets in a way that defied all traffic ordinances. He had failed toidentify the crook who had received orders to speak with Miss FredaBrakeland. And something was troubling his fiancee, and Faustina hadrefused to confide in him. It had been an unprofitable afternoon.
And there was a busy and dangerous night before him.
The Black Star: A Detective Story Page 6