The Ear in the Wall

by Arthur B. Reeve

  XVI

  THE SANITARIUM

  "It seems as if the forces of Dorgan are demoralized," I remarked theafternoon after the raid on Margot's.

  "We have them on the run--that's true," agreed Kennedy, "but there'splenty of fight in them, yet. We're not through, by any means."

  Still, the lightning swiftness of Carton's attack had taken theirbreath away, temporarily, at least. Already he had started proceedingsto disbar Kahn, as well as to prosecute him in the courts. According tothe reports that came to us Murtha himself seemed dazed at the blowthat had fallen. Some of our informants asserted that he was drinkingheavily; others denied it. Whatever it was, however, Murtha was changed.

  As for Dorgan, he was never much in the limelight anyhow and was lessso now than ever. He preferred to work through others, while he himselfkept in the background. He had never held any but a minor office, andthat in the beginning of his career. Interviews and photographs heeschewed as if forbidden by his political religion. Since the discoveryof the detectaphone in his suite at Gastron's he had had his roomsthoroughly overhauled, lest by any chance there might be another of themagic little instruments concealed in the very walls, and havingsatisfied himself that there was not, he instituted a watch of privatedetectives to prevent a repetition of the unfortunate incident.

  Whoever it was who had obtained the Black Book was keeping very quietabout it, and I imagined that it was being held up as a sort of swordof Damocles, dangling over his head, until such time as its possessorchose to strike the final blow. Of course, we did not and could notknow what was going on behind the scenes with the Silent Boss, whatdrama was being enacted between Dorgan and the Wall Street group,headed by Langhorne. Langhorne himself was inscrutable. I had heardthat Dorgan had once in an unguarded moment expressed a derogatoryopinion of the social leanings of Langhorne. But that was in the daysbefore Dorgan had acquired a country place on Long Island and a tastefor golf and expensive motors. Now, in his way, Dorgan was quite asfastidious as any of those he had once affected to despise. It amusedLanghorne. But it had not furthered his ambitions of being taken intothe inner circle of Dorgan's confidence. Hence, I inferred, this bitterinternecine strife within the organization itself.

  Whatever was brewing inside the organization, I felt that we shouldsoon know, for this was the day on which Justice Pomeroy had announcedhe would sentence Dopey Jack.

  It was a very different sort of crowd that overflowed the courtroomthat morning from that which had so boldly flocked to the trial as ifit were to make a Roman holiday of justice.

  The very tone was different. There was a tense look on many a face, asif the owner were asking himself the question, "What are we coming to?If this can happen to Dopey Jack, what might not happen to me?"

  Even the lawyers were changed. Kahn, as a result of the proceedingsthat Carton had instituted, had yielded the case to another, perhaps nobetter than himself, but wiser, after the fact. Instead of demandinganything, as a sort of prescriptive right, the new attorney actuallyadopted the unheard of measure of appealing to the clemency of thecourt. The shades of all the previous bosses and gangsters must haveturned in disgust at the unwonted sight. But certain it was that no onecould see the relaxation of a muscle on the face of Justice Pomeroy asthe lawyer proceeded with his specious plea. He heard Carton, also, inthe same impassive manner, as in a few brief and pointed sentences heripped apart the sophistries of his opponent.

  The spectators fairly held their breath as the prisoner now stoodbefore the tribune of justice.

  "Jack Rubano," he began impressively, "you have been convicted bytwelve of your peers--so the law looks on them, although the fact isthat any honest man is immeasurably your superior. Even before that,Rubano, the District Attorney having looked into all the factssurrounding this charge had come to the conclusion that the evidencewas sufficiently strong to convict you. You were convicted in his mind.In my mind, of course, there could be no prejudgment. But now that ajury has found you guilty, I may say that you have a record that ismore than enough to disgrace a man twice your age. True, you have neverbeen punished. But this is not the time or place for me to criticise mycolleagues on the bench for letting you off. Others of your associateshave served terms in prison for things no whit worse than you have donerepeatedly. I shall be glad to meet some of them at this bar in thenear future."

  The justice paused, then extended a long, lean accusatory finger outfrom the rostrum at the gangster. "Rubano," he concluded, "your crimeis particularly heinous--debauching the very foundations of thestate--the elections. I sentence you to not less than three nor morethan five years in State's prison, at hard labour."

  There was an audible gasp in the big courtroom, as the judge snappedshut his square jaw, bull-dog fashion. It was as though he had snappedthe backbone of the System.

  The prisoner was hurried from the room before there was a chance for ademonstration. It was unnecessary, however. It seemed as if all thejaunty bravado of the underworld was gone out of it. Slowly the crowdfiled out, whispering.

  Dopey Jack, Murtha's right-hand man, had been sentenced to State'sprison!

  Outside the courtroom Carton received an ovation. As quickly as hecould, he escaped from the newspapermen, and Kennedy was the first tograsp his hand.

  But the most pleasing congratulation came from Miss Ashton, who haddropped in with two or three friends from the Reform League.

  "I'm so glad, Mr. Carton--for your sake," she added very prettily, withjust a trace of heightened colour in her cheeks and eyes that showedher sincere pleasure at the outcome of the case. "And then, too," shewent on, "it may have some bearing on the case of that girl who hasdisappeared. So far, no one seems to have been able to find a trace ofher. She just seems to have dropped out as if she had been spiritedaway."

  "We must find her," returned Carton, thanking her for her good wishesin a manner which he had done to none of the rest of us, and in factforgetful now that any of us were about. "I shall start right in onDopey Jack to see if I can get anything out of him, although I don'tthink he is one that will prove a squealer in any way. I hope we canhave something to report soon."

  Others were pressing around him and Miss Ashton moved away, although Ithought his handshakes were perhaps a little less cordial after she hadgone.

  I turned once to survey the crowd and down the gallery, near a pillar Isaw Langhorne, his eyes turned fixedly in our direction, and a deepscowl on his face. Evidently he had no relish for the proceedings, atleast that part in which Carton had just figured, whatever his personalfeelings may have been toward the culprit. A moment later he saw melooking at him, turned abruptly and walked toward the stone staircasethat led down to the main floor. But I could not get that scowl out ofmy mind as I watched his tall, erect figure stalking away.

  Neither Murtha, nor, of course, Dorgan, were there, though I knew thatthey had many emissaries present who would report to them every detailof what had happened, down perhaps to the congratulations of MissAshton. Somehow, I could not get out of my head a feeling that shewould afford them, in some way, a point of attack on Carton and thatthe unscrupulous organization would stop at nothing in order to saveits own life and ruin his.

  Carton had not only his work at the District Attorney's office todirect, but some things to clear up at the Reform League headquarters,as well as a campaign speech to make.

  "I'm afraid I shan't be able to see much of you, to-day," he apologizedto Kennedy, "but you're going to Miss Ashton's suffrage evening anddance, aren't you?"

  "I should like to go," temporized Kennedy.

  Carton glanced about to see whether there was anyone in earshot. "Ithink you had better go," he added. "She has secured a promise fromLanghorne to be there, as well as several of the organization leaders.It is a thoroughly non-partisan affair--and she can get them alltogether. You know the organization is being educated. When people ofthe prominence of the Ashtons take up suffrage and make specialrequests to have certain persons come to a thing like that, they canha
rdly refuse. In fact, no one commits himself to anything by beingpresent, whereas, absence might mean hostility, and there are lots ofthe women in the organization that believe in suffrage, now. Yes, we'dbetter go. It will be a chance to observe some people we want to watch."

  "We'll go," agreed Kennedy. "Can't we all go together?"

  "Surely," replied Carton, gratified, I could see, by having succeededin swelling the crowd that would be present and thus adding to thesuccess of Miss Ashton's affair. "Drop into the office here, and I'llbe ready. Good-bye--and thanks for your aid, both of you."

  We left the Criminal Courts Building with the crowd that was slowlydispersing, still talking over the unexpected and unprecedented end ofthe trial.

  As we paused on the broad flight of steps that led down to the streeton this side, Kennedy jogged my elbow, and, following his eyes, I saw awoman, apparently alone, just stepping into a town car at the curb.

  There was something familiar about her, but her face was turned from meand I could not quite place her.

  "Mrs. Ogleby," Kennedy remarked. "I didn't see her in the courtroom.She must have been there, though, or perhaps outside in the corridor.Evidently she felt some interest in the outcome of the case."

  He had caught just a glimpse of her face and now that he pronounced hername I recognized her, though I should not have otherwise.

  The car drove off with the rattle of the changing gears into highspeed, before we had a chance to determine whether it was otherwiseempty or not.

  "Why was she here?" I asked.

  Kennedy shook his head, but did not venture a reply to the questionthat was in his own mind. I felt that it must have something to do withher fears regarding the Black Book. Had she, too, surmised that Murthahad employed his henchman, Dopey Jack, to recover the book fromLanghorne? Had she feared that Dopey Jack might in some moment of heat,for revenge, drop some hint of the robbery--whether it had been reallysuccessful or not?

  It was my turn to call Kennedy's attention to something, now, forstanding sidewise as I was, I could see the angles of the building backof him.

  "Don't turn--yet," I cautioned, "but just around the corner back ofyou, Langhorne is standing. Evidently he has been watching Mrs. Ogleby,too."

  Kennedy drew a cigarette from his case, tried to light it, let thematch go out, and then as if to shield himself from the wind, steppedback and turned.

  Langhorne, however, had seen us, and an instant later had disappeared.

  Without a word further Kennedy led the way around the corner to thesubway and we started uptown, I knew this time, for the laboratory.

  He made no comment on the case, but I knew he had in mind some plan orother for the next move and that it would probably involve something atthe suffrage meeting at Miss Ashton's that evening.

  During the rest of the day, Craig was busy testing and re-testing apeculiar piece of apparatus, while now and then he would despatch me onvarious errands which I knew were more as an outlet for my excitementthan of any practical importance.

  The apparatus, as far as I could make it out, consisted of a simplelittle oaken box, oblong in shape, in the face of which were two squarelittle holes with side walls of cedar, converging pyramid-like in theinterior of the box and ending in what looked to be little round blackdiscs.

  I had just returned with a hundred feet or so of the best silk-coveredflexible wire, when he had evidently completed his work. Two of theboxes were already wrapped up. I started to show him the wire, butafter a glance he accepted it as exactly what he had wanted and made itinto a smaller package, which he handed to me.

  "I think we might be journeying down to Carton's office," he added,looking impatiently at his watch.

  It was still early and we did not hurry.

  Carton, however, was waiting for us anxiously. "I've called you at thelaboratory and the apartment--all over," he cried. "Where have youbeen?"

  "Just on the way down," returned Kennedy. "Why, what has happened?"

  "Then you haven't heard it?" asked Carton excitedly, without waitingfor Craig's answer. "Murtha has been committed to a sanitarium."

  Kennedy and I stared at him.

  "Pat Murtha," ejaculated Craig, "in a sanitarium?"

  "Exactly. Paresis--they say--absolutely irresponsible."

  Coming as it did as a climax to the quick and unexpected succession ofevents of the past few days, it was no wonder that it seemed impossible.

  What did it mean? Was it merely a sham? Or was it a result of hisexcesses? Or had Carton's relentless pursuit, the raid of Margot's, andthe conviction of Dopey Jack, driven the Smiling Boss really insane?