BLIND MAN'S TOUCH
Dr. Stone, reaching into the closet, found the gray suit that neededpressing. He knew it was gray because his fingers felt the threesharply-ridged lines of thread sewed on the inside of the collar. So, tothe blind man, was every suit, shirt, tie and sock in his wardrobe markedfor exact identification. One raised ridge of thread for blue, two forbrown, and three for gray.
He came down the stairs with the suit. Joe Morrow had put a leash onLady, and she whined eagerly.
"Ready to go, old girl?" The blind man patted the dog's head and took theleash. "All set, Joe? Got your money?"
"Yes, sir." The boy felt for the two dollars he had earned weeding aneighbor's garden. "I'll have fourteen dollars saved," he boasted.
"Wealth," the doctor chuckled, and snapped open his watch and touched theexposed hands with a finger. "We'll be back in time for dinner."
But that was a dinner they were destined never to eat.
Roses bloomed in the summer heat, fields of corn tasseled in the sun, anda dog ran out of a yard and barked at them furiously. Lady, intent onlyon the blind man in her keeping, pricked up her ears but did not changeher rapid pace. The village was busy with its Saturday morning trade, andthe tawny brute carefully maneuvered the doctor through the crowds. Joeclutched his two dollars and his bank-book. They left the gray suit atthe tailor's and came out to the street. And at that moment a man,coatless and hatless, ran out of the Pelle Canning Company building andwent past them, panting.
Dr. Stone said: "Did you hear that man's breathing, Joe? He's frightened.Who is he?"
"Mr. Pelle," the boy told him.
"Where did he go?"
"Into the bank."
The doctor said: "Lady, right," and followed the dog across the roadwayto the bank side of the street. A small door in one of the two-storybrick buildings opened suddenly, and a girl hurried out. The door wasmarked: "OFFICE, MIDSTATE TEL. CO. UPSTAIRS," and the girl was TessieRich, one of the telephone operators. In her haste she almost ran intothe blind man.
"Oh! I'm sorry, Doctor."
"No harm done, Tessie," Dr. Stone said, and chuckled slyly. "We're on ourway to the bank. Any message you'd like me to give Albert Wall?"
The girl colored rosily. "I usually give him my own messages."
The wail of a siren filled the street and a police car went past them,traveling fast. Instantly the girl was across the sidewalk and throughthe telephone company door. The car stopped at the bank, and Joe saw afigure in blue uniform and brass buttons get out.
"Captain Tucker?" the blind man asked.
"Yes, Uncle David."
"The bank?"
"Yes, sir."
"Tessie gone? I see. And Tucker and Pelle both in a hurry." The doctorwhistled an almost soundless whistle. "We'd better get on, Joe."
Something had gone wrong at the bank. The boy saw that at once. A scoreof depositors clung together in knots on the main floor, uneasy bankclerks stood behind the bronze grille of the teller's windows, and fromsome inner room came a roaring, bull voice shouting in anger. BryanSmith, the president of the bank, agitated and flushed, appeared in thedoorway of the little room, saw the blind man and cried out:
"Doctor! Doctor Stone! This way, please."
Joe Morrow, still clutching his two dollars and his pass-book, went withhis uncle and the dog, and the door closed upon them. Inside the roomthree men stood about the bank president's desk. The veins in Mr. Pelle'sneck were swollen with rage; Albert Wall, the cashier, tapped his fingersagainst the desk and frowned, and a third man, who looked lost andbewildered, held on to the back of a chair near the window. This thirdman, whom Joe had never seen before, smelled of antiseptics and carriedhis right arm in a sling.
"Doctor," Bryan Smith sputtered, "this bank has been robbed of fivethousand dollars. Robbed right under our noses. Not fifteen minutes ago."
"By whom?" the doctor asked quietly.
"We don't know. Somebody put a forged check through the window. At leastPelle says he signed only one check and----"
"What do you mean I say I signed only one check?" the canner roared. "Itell you I signed only one. I should know! If you were fools enough topay----"
"But I telephoned you, Mr. Pelle," Albert Wall broke in. "You said----"
"I know what I said. I told you I had given a check to Fred Hesset forfive thousand dollars. If you paid five thousand dollars to another manon a forged check that's your funeral. The real Hesset is here." Mr.Pelle pointed to the man with bandaged arm. "Pay him."
"Not so fast," Bryan Smith fumed. "One check has been paid already. Nowwe have another and you say you signed only one. Which one?" The bankpresident held out two slips of paper.
Joe had a glimpse of them. Both were dated that day, both were made outto Fred Hesset, both were for five thousand dollars, both were signed"Paul Pelle." The canner stared at them for a long minute.
"This one," he said, and pushed one of the checks across the desk.
"How do you know?"
"Because this one is number 1046. I gave Hesset check No. 1046."
"How about your signature on this other check?"
"I tell you that isn't my signature."
With a quick movement the banker scrambled the checks and then laid themside by side partly covered by a blotter so that only the signaturesshowed.
"Now, Pelle," he snapped, "which one did you sign?"
The canner's neck swelled again. "What is this," he roared; "a trap? Ican't tell them apart. That's what you're supposed to be able to do. Itell you----"
"Gentlemen." Dr. Stone's voice was mild. "Let's stay with facts. As Iunderstand it Pelle gave a man named Hesset a check for five thousanddollars this morning. What for?"
"Damages," Mr. Pelle snapped. "Hesset owns a butcher shop at Arlington.One of my trucks got out of control and skidded into the front of theshop. Hesset was caught in the wreckage; broken arm and brokencollarbone. I don't carry liability insurance. I settled with him andgave him a check at eleven o'clock this morning."
Captain Tucker said: "Where does this second check come in?"
"Tell them, Albert," Bryan Smith ordered.
The cashier's fingers ceased to tap the desk. "At 11:13--I happened toglance at the clock--a man pushed a check through the window. It was afive thousand dollar check, made out to Fred Hesset and signed by Mr.Pelle. The man couldn't identify himself, so I called Mr. Pelle and wastold he had given the check a few minutes before. I cashed it. Tenminutes later another Hesset check for five thousand dollars came throughthe window. It looked queer. I called Mr. Pelle again." Albert Wall madea gesture with his hands. "Then I telephoned for Captain Tucker."
The captain cleared his throat. "That first check was the forged check?"
Again the cashier's hands moved. "So Mr. Pelle says."
The canner's face was livid. But before he could roar his wrath Dr.Stone's voice sounded quietly in the breathless tension of the room.
"May I see those checks?"
"Why--" The idea of sightless eyes trying to examine handwritingstaggered Bryan Smith. "Why--why, of course, Doctor," he said weakly.
The checks crinkled faintly in the blind man's hands. Joe, watching hisuncle's face, suddenly saw a sign that sent a hot needle through hisspine. Tight, puckered lines had gathered around the sightless eyes.
"How many persons knew this check was to be paid today?" Dr. Stone asked.
"No one," Mr. Pelle answered shortly. "Things not connected directly withthe buying and selling I keep to myself."
"But if you wrote Hesset surely your stenographer----"
"I didn't write. I telephoned."
"When?"
"Last Monday evening--seven o'clock. I was alone in the office. I toldhim to be here promptly at eleven this morning."
Albert Wall said: "If you'll excuse me a moment--" and was gone. Joe feltthe warning pressure of his uncle's foot upon his toe. The door of theinner room had not been tightly closed. Craning his neck, the
boy saw thecashier at a telephone. Presently Albert Wall came back still with thatslight frown upon his face.
"This thing was planned ahead," Captain Tucker said slowly.
"Forgery is always planned ahead," Dr. Stone agreed. "Somebody knew thatat eleven this morning Pelle was to give Hesset a check. By the way,Pelle, when you telephoned Monday evening did you tell Hesset what theamount of the check would be?"
"Certainly. No man settles a damage claim without knowing what he's goingto get. I offered five thousand dollars; he accepted."
"So somebody knew three important facts--that you were going to pay acheck at a certain time, the exact amount of the check and to whom it wasto be made payable."
"Nobody knew it," the canner insisted.
"Except you and Hesset," the blind man said mildly.
The bandaged man, holding to the back of the chair, seemed to grow evenmore bewildered. Mr. Pelle's face was thrust across the desk.
"Doctor," he rasped, "are you insinuating----"
Lady gave a low, deep-throated growl. One of the blind man's handstouched the tawny head.
"Pelle," he asked, "how did you come to pick a Saturday morning to settlewith Hesset?"
"Any law against it?" Mr. Pelle demanded.
"No." The doctor's voice was bland. "This is a small bank. It has onlytwo really busy hours in the week. There is a rush from eleven to noon onSaturday just before the week-end closing; another rush from eight tonine Monday morning with business men coming in with their Saturday cash.During the week there would be leisure for a cashier to scrutinize a man;perhaps to telephone and ask, among other things, for a description. Buton Saturday, after eleven, there is pressure and haste. And in this hourof pressure a check went through."
Mr. Pelle wet his lips nervously. Captain Tucker stood very still.
"Anything else, Doctor?" he asked.
"Why, yes." The blind man took a pipe from his pocket and filled itslowly. "Why did Hesset bring his check here to be cashed? Why didn't hetake it back to Arlington and deposit it in his own bank?"
"Well, Hesset?" the police captain barked.
Joe saw the bandaged man grip the back of the chair with his good hand."I know nothing about two checks, Captain. I saw only one check. I wantedthe money in my pocket. Cash is cash. Sometimes a check you think isgood----"
Mr. Pelle's roar filled the room. "You dare say that to me, Hesset?"Captain Tucker sprang between the two men, and Joe shrank out of the way.Dr. Stone said: "I had better take the dog out of here. Come, Joe." Itwas long past noon, and the bank was closed. Albert Wall went with themdown the long, deserted floor to open the front door and let them out.
"What do you make of this?" he asked in an undertone.
"Pelle?" the doctor asked mildly.
The cashier hesitated. "Well--yes. Five thousand dollars is a lot ofmoney. I know the condition of Pelle's account; business hasn't been anytoo good of late and five thousand dollars might hit him hard. If hecould pay five thousand dollars with one hand and manipulate a forgedcheck with the other and get five thousand dollars back from the bank--.For that, though, he'd need a confederate, somebody to go to the windowwith the first check. It doesn't seem probable."
"A possibility though," the blind man said. "A great many possibilities,"he added. "Let's not forget Hesset. Either Hesset or Pelle could haveworked this with a confederate. Or some person, unknown and unsuspected,might be the criminal. Good day, Albert." He held out his hand.
"Good-bye, Doctor." Their hands met. The heavy door of the bank closed.
The puckered lines had come back to the sightless eyes. Man, boy and dogcame down the stone steps of the old-fashioned building. On the sidewalkthe doctor spoke.
"Joe, you could see them. How did Pelle strike you?"
"He was wild," the boy answered.
"A man may protest too much or too little," the blind man observed dryly."Hesset?"
"He was scared."
"So! That leaves Albert Wall. Could you see him when he left the room?"
"Yes, sir."
"Where did he go?"
"To a telephone."
"Good lad!" The doctor knocked the ashes from his pipe and walked besidethe dog in silence. "The telephone office," he said suddenly.
Joe wondered what unseen tangent of the case could bring them there. Theywent up a narrow mountain of a stairway. Lady, leading, slowed and swungher Master to the left, stopping him at the counter.
"Can you tell me," Dr. Stone asked, "what operators were on duty at seveno'clock last Monday night?"
"We have only one girl on duty after 6:45," the manager told him, andconsulted a record. "That was Tessie Rich's night. Any complaint,Doctor?"
"Merely a matter of information," the doctor smiled. Back in the sunlightJoe saw that the smile was gone and that the puckers around the sightlesseyes had become intent. Dr. Stone said absently: "You must be hungry,Joe," and they went toward a restaurant. But before they reached it therewas a rush of feet and a woman's breathless voice.
"Doctor!" It was Tessie Rich. "Why did you want to know if I was on dutylast Monday night?"
"I didn't."
"Oh!" The girl was nonplused. "But--but you asked----"
"I asked who was on duty," the doctor said gently. "Did you have anyreason to think I was asking about you?"
Subtle, hidden undertones filled the question, and the hot needle wasagain in Joe's spine. The girl raised a handkerchief to her lips.
"Why--why, of course not, Doctor? Why should I?" There was something ofhysterical panic in her voice.
"Why?" the blind man asked, blandly.
In the restaurant Joe Morrow chewed on food that all at once stuck in histhroat. Why had his uncle gone to the telephone office? What hiddenspring had that visit touched and what had frightened Tessie Rich? WereMr. Pelle and the girl both involved? Had the canner actually signed twochecks? What about Mr. Hesset? Who had gone to the bank with the firstcheck and walked out with five thousand dollars in cash?
"Do you know who did it, Uncle David?"
A pipe came out of a pocket; blue smoke spiraled fragrantly about a facethat had become placid and bland.
"Joe, the bank is built on a corner--at an angle to the corner. How farup the street can you see?"
"Quite a distance."
"As far as Pelle's factory?"
"Yes, sir."
"I know who didn't do it," the blind man said, and stood up. "And," headded quietly, "I think I know who did."
Joe hoped it wasn't Tessie Rich. They walked out of the village and upalong the dirt road. The doctor said aloud: "If I could pick one morelink--" and left the sentence unfinished and said no more. Tree toadsmade metallic clamor in the afternoon heat, and the earth smelled asthough it were baked.
A clock struck three as they entered the house. Dr. Stone paced the porchand Lady stretched off in a patch of sun and watched him steadily. Joebrought up a tool from the cellar and prepared to trim the hedge.
A light delivery truck stopped in the road and a young man carried a suitup to the house.
"You're prompt," Dr. Stone said. The suit was on a hanger; the coatbrushed against his knee with a soft crinkle. He ran one hand into apocket and pulled out a paper. Strange! There had been nothing in thepockets of the suit he had carried away. His hand went up quickly to feelinside the collar. The three sharply ridged lines of thread were notthere.
"Joe!" he called. "Stop that tailor's boy----" But the driver had alreadydiscovered his mistake. He came up the walk with the suit of gray. Joelaid down the clippers and followed him in.
"I'll carry that up to your room, Uncle Da----What's Lady got?"
The dog had found a paper on the floor. Now she carried it to the doctor.It crinkled in his hand.
It was a small paper, no larger than half a sheet from a note-book. Joewatched those hands move, gently exploring, over every inch of surface.And as the hands moved, Dr. Stone's face changed. Joe had seen thatsharp, alert expression before. It was a silent
sign that, some place inthe eternal darkness of his world, the blind man had found light.
"Joe, there is writing on this paper?"
"Yes, sir." The boy looked closer and drew in a hot, throbbing breath."Uncle David! The same thing's written all over it. Paul Pelle, PaulPelle, Paul Pelle."
Dr. Stone said a soft: "Ah!" and folded the paper and put it in hispocket. "The criminal always slips," he observed; "there's alwayssomething forgotten." He stood for a moment whistling softly. "Care tostretch your legs? I want a word with the tailor."
Joe's eyes, fascinated, were on the writing. That paper had fallen fromthe suit delivered by mistake, and now his uncle wanted to know to whomthe suit belonged.
"Couldn't you telephone him, Uncle David?"
The blind man's mouth twitched. "The call might pass through Tessie'sswitchboard," he said dryly.
The boy groped, and stumbled, and sought to find the meaning. Theafternoon sun was low; the first cool breath of evening breeze blew overthe dirt road. He waited outside while his uncle talked with the tailor;when the man came out he was whistling.
"Police station," he said.
Captain Tucker was at his desk. "Doctor," he burst out, "this thing isbaffling. Lay those two checks side by side and you can't tell thesignatures apart. I've talked to New York. There isn't a forger known tothe police in this part of the country."
Dr. Stone asked: "Did Albert Wall give you a description?"
"Of the man who cashed that first check? A lot of good that does. Fivefeet eight, about 155 pounds, dark, clean-shaven, blue suit. It fits amillion men."
"It would," the doctor said blandly. His face was inscrutable. "You heardPelle's story and Albert Wall's. Get statements prepared."
"For what?"
"For them to sign." His hands felt along the desk for the telephone andhe called Bryan Smith's house. "Bryan? Dr. Stone. Do you know where youcan find Albert at this hour? He's with you now? Can you have him at thebank in an hour? I'll be along with Captain Tucker and Pelle." He putdown the telephone. "You have an hour, Tucker, in which to get thosestatements ready and dig up Pelle. He's probably at the factory."
"But why signed statements?" Captain Tucker demanded impatiently.
"Bait," the blind man said casually. "Sometimes you use cheese in a trap;sometimes you use printed words." He settled into a chair and closed hiseyes, and appeared to doze. The dog, ever watchful, lay at his feet.
Captain Tucker left the room, and presently, in another part of thepolice station, a typewriter began to click. The captain came backgrumbling and out-of-sorts. The doctor's devious, subtle methods alwaysprovoked him to a show of ill-humor. The telephone rang sharply--therehad been an automobile crash near the bridge. A minute later a motorroared into life in the alley beside the station and a motorcyclepatrolmen sped away. The blind man did not stir.
Joe Morrow squirmed restlessly and watched the clock. Mr. Pelle arrivedin a chastened, subdued mood; a uniformed man brought Captain Tuckerseveral typewritten sheets; the wall clock struck the hour, and Dr. Stoneopened his eyes.
"Ready, Tucker?"
They drove to the bank in the police car. Bryan Smith let them in. Duskhad begun to gather in the corners farthest from the windows, aguardlight burned in front of the steel safe, and a burst of ceilinglights shone from the inner room. Captain Tucker and Mr. Pelle went onahead while the bank president saw to it that the door was securelylocked. The doctor lingered.
"Bryan," he said softly, "are there pens and ink on your desk?"
"Certainly."
"Remove them; Lady, forward." And before the man could reply the doctorwas on his way past the teller's cages, one hand holding theharness-grip, his body bent a little toward the guiding dog.
Bryan Smith, saying that they might need room, cleared the desk. Mr.Pelle's eyes shifted from side to side and missed nothing. Albert Wallseemed to wait patiently the outcome of this strange gathering. But whatheld Joe's attention and sent the blood pounding in his veins was asomething that lay behind the passive placidity of his uncle's face.
"Captain Tucker," Dr. Stone said, "has prepared statements for Pelle andAlbert to sign. You have pens, gentlemen? Now, if you will sign them----"
Albert Wall read rapidly and, taking a fountain pen from his pocket,signed at once. Mr. Pelle read his paper through and then read it again.He wrote his name slowly.
"Albert's paper, Captain." The doctor laid it on the desk at his righthand. "Pelle's." It went upon the left. "Now, Bryan, if I may have thosechecks. First the one Pelle says he didn't sign." It went upon the rightwith Albert Wall's statement.
The bank president's nerves had been under a long strain. "What's themeaning of this, Doctor?" he snapped. "If you have your suspicions, letus know them. If you have anything to say, say it. Don't waste time."
"Presently," the doctor said mildly. His hands had moved, mysteriouslyexplored, and had come to rest. That vague something in his face was nolonger there; he was serene. When he spoke again his voice was almostconfidential. "Had that fountain pen long, Albert?"
The cashier was surprised. "Four or five years."
"You kept it too long. It tripped you."
"Tripped? Look here, Doctor, what are you driving at?"
"Money," the blind man said. "Five thousand dollars. What did you do withit?"
In the appalled silence of the room Joe heard clearly the sound ofsomeone breathing with an effort. The cashier had not moved.
"Do you know what you're saying, Doctor?"
"Quite," the doctor said pleasantly. From his pocket he drew out a paper."Did you ever see this?"
It was the paper Lady had picked from the floor. Albert Wall's eyeswidened.
"A dangerous business, handling money," Dr. Stone mused. "Thousands uponthousands of dollars pouring through one's hands every day. Otherpeople's money. If a man has a weak spot some place inside it may gethim--a fever to have some of this money for his own. If the right momentcomes, or the right scheme presents itself----
"You heard about the settlement Pelle was to make with Hesset, didn'tyou, Albert? The weak spot took control. You saw a chance to put yourhands on five thousand dollars so cleverly that it would never be tracedto you. You must have spent hour upon hour practicing Pelle's signature.And finally you had a check that you thought was perfect.
"You could see Pelle's factory. Saturday morning you saw Hesset go in.You may have gone to Arlington so you'd know what he looked like; you mayhave figured you'd know him because he would be bandaged. You saw himcome out; you waited a minute or two. Then you telephoned Pelle that aman was at the window with a five thousand dollar check. Naturally Pellesaid it was all right. You knew he'd say that. Hadn't he just given thecheck? So you stamped 'paid' on the check you had forged, and placed itwith the checks the bank had cashed that morning. Shortly thereafter thereal Hesset appeared and you telephoned Pelle again. Oh, it was a sweetscheme, Albert. Apparently there was no come-back. Hadn't Pelle told youto pay the first check? Could the bank be held responsible for paying acheck Pelle told it to pay? In its simplicity the plan was almost genius.But--" The doctor paused. "You slipped."
The cashier had not moved. "Doctor," he said evenly, "your story ispreposterous. You heard Pelle say he was alone in the office when hetelephoned Hesset. To put a scheme like this through I would have to knowin advance that a settlement had been made, when a check was to be given,and for how much. How could I know it?"
"Bryan," the blind man said, "will you call the telephone office and askthem can they send Tessie Rich over here for a moment?"
The bank president reached for the telephone.
"Don't do that," Albert Wall called sharply. In a moment all theself-control had gone out of him. There was a chair behind him; hereached back and sank into it heavily. "Keep her out of it," he said in awhisper. "I--I did it. I alone."
Mr. Pelle wiped beads of sweat from his forehead. "I thought yoususpected me, Doctor?"
"It is wise, sometimes, to appear to suspect th
e innocent. Do youremember I asked for the checks this morning? A moment later I knew youwere not the man. As soon as you said you had telephoned Hesset asignificant thing happened. Albert left the room. He went to a telephone.My guess is he went there to warn Tessie not to tell anybody she hadspoken to him about the Hesset settlement."
The cashier lifted a white face. "How did you know that?"
"Deduction. One person could have heard what Pelle said to Hesset--thecentral operator through whom the call passed. When I left here Alberttook me to the door. I made a point of shaking hands with him. A cashierwho had just paid a forged check, it is only natural to suppose, would benervous and upset. Albert's hand was hard and strained, his grip that ofa man steeled to see something through.... What?
"I stopped at the telephone office and asked what girls had been on dutyat seven o'clock Monday evening. Tessie had been on duty alone. I did notmention her name; and yet, before I had gone one hundred feet, she wasout in the street after me, badly shaken, demanding to know why I hadinquired about her. That end of the picture was complete. Tessie andAlbert were sweethearts; she had told him of the Pelle call inconfidential gossip. I knew then who the guilty man was, but I could notprove it.
"This afternoon the tailor delivered me another man's suit by mistake. Ifound it was Albert's. This was in one of the pockets." The doctor pushedacross the desk the paper covered with the canner's signature. "Probablyevery other paper on which Albert had practiced the signature had beendestroyed--this one had been overlooked. As he could not have practicedforgery at the bank he must have done it at home. And as the same pen hadwritten the signatures on this paper and the signature on the forgedcheck, they must have been written, not with a bank pen, but with a penthat Albert carried with him. I wanted to have him use that pen beforewitnesses.
"So I had Captain Tucker prepare statements and bring you here. I hadBryan clear the desk so that Albert would have no other pen to use buthis own. Once he signed that statement he had damned himself."
Bryan Smith, examining the two checks, shook his head. "Doctor, youcannot see. How could you tell that?"
"Have you a magnifying glass?" the blind man asked.
The bank president took one from a drawer.
"Examine the check Pelle signed and the statement he signed. Bothsignatures are smooth. Look at the forged check. There are three l's inPaul Pelle. On each of the three upstrokes on the l's the pen gouged thepaper a bit. Here's the paper that was in the suit. The same gouge on theupstrokes. Now the statement Albert Wall signed. There are also three l'sin his name, and the same gouge on the upstrokes. All made by the samepen."
Joe Morrow was filled with a sense of pride and wonder. Bryan Smith saidslowly:
"Doctor, I fail to see how you, sightless, could detect that."
"Eyes," Dr. Stone said. "Auxiliary eyes. When sight goes, other sensesquicken." He laid his hands upon the table, palms up, and the light shoneupon the delicate, sensitive finger tips.
"You mean you could feel these grooves?" Captain Tucker demanded.
"Yes."
The captain ran his own fingers across the signatures. "I don't see how,"he complained. "I don't feel a thing."
Dr. Stone filled his pipe with expert care. "You are not blind," he saidmildly. "You lack a blind man's touch."
Detectives, Inc.: A Mystery Story for Boys Page 5