The Mardi Gras Mystery Part 14

"Thanks."

Gramont continued his way, conscious that they were staring after him. If there was anything phony about him, they evidently considered that Memphis Izzy would take care of the matter very ably.

The steps of the cottage porch creaked protestingly as Gramont ascended them. Perhaps Memphis Izzy recognized an unaccustomed footstep; perhaps that conversation outside had penetrated to him. Gramont entered the front door into the hall, and as he did so, Gumberts opened the door on his right and stood gazing at him--rather, glaring.

"Who're you?" he demanded, roughly.

"Came out with a message from Mr. Fell," responded Gramont at once. "Brought some orders, I should say----"

The sixth sense of Memphis Izzy, which had carried him uncaught into a grizzled age, must have flashed a warning to his crook's brain. In the man's eyes Gramont read a surge of suspicion, and knew that his bluff could be worked no longer.

"Here's his note," he said, and reached into his pocket.

Gumberts' hand flashed down, but halted as Gramont's pistol covered him.

"Back into that room, and do it quickly," said Gramont, stepping forward. "Quick!"

Memphis Izzy obeyed. Gramont stood in the doorway, his eyes sweeping the room and the men inside. Startled, all four of them had risen and were staring at him. In his other hand he produced the automatic which he had taken from d.i.c.k Hearne.

"The first word from any of you gentlemen," he declared, "will draw a shot. I'm doing all the talking here. Savvy?"

They stood staring, paralyzed by this apparition. They had been sitting about a table which was heaped with papers and with packages of money. A large safe in the wall stood open. Beside the table was a small mail sack, partially emptied of its contents; torn envelopes littered the floor.

That this was the headquarters of at least a section of the lottery gang Gramont saw without need of explanation.

"You're under arrest," said Gramont, quietly. "The game's up, Gumberts. Hands up, all of you! d.i.c.k Hearne has peached on the whole gang, and from the boss down you're all in for a term in stir. You with the derby! Take Gumberts' gun, and those of your companions, then your own; throw 'em on the floor in the corner, and if you make the wrong kind of a move, heaven help you! Step lively, there!"

One of the men who wore a derby on the back of his head obeyed the command. All five of the men facing Gramont realized that a single shout would call help from outside, but in the eyes of Gramont they read a strict attention to business. It was altogether too probable that one man who dared arrest them alone would shoot to kill at the first false move--and not even Memphis Izzy himself opened his mouth.

Each man there had a revolver or pistol, and one by one the weapons clattered into the corner. Gumberts stood motionless, licking his thick lips, unuttered curses in his glaring eyes. And in that instant Gramont heard the porch steps creak, and caught a low, startled cry.

"Hey, boss! They's a gang comin' on the run----"

It was Charlie the Goog, bursting in upon them in wild haste. Gramont stepped into the room and turned slightly, covering with one of his weapons the intruder, who stood aghast in the doorway as he comprehended the scene.

No words pa.s.sed. Staring at the five men, then at Gramont, the adenoidal mechanic gulped once--and like a flash acted. He ducked low, and fired from his pocket. Gramont fired at the same instant, and the heavy bullet, catching Charlie the Goog squarely in the chest, hurled his body half across the room.

With the shots Memphis Izzy flung himself forward in a headlong rush. That desperate shot of the little mechanic had broken Gramont's right arm above the wrist; before he could fire a second time, with the weapon in his left hand, Gumberts had wrested the pistol aside and was struggling with him. The other four came into the melee full weight.

Gramont went down under a cras.h.i.+ng blow. Over him leaped Memphis Izzy and rushed into the doorway--then stopped with astounding abruptness and lifted his arms. After him the other four followed suit. Two men, panting a little, stood outside the door and covered them with shotguns.

"Back up," they ordered, curtly. Memphis Izzy and his four friends obeyed.

"Tie 'em, boys," said Gramont, rising dizzily to his feet. "No, I'm not hurt--my arm's broken, I think, but let that wait. Got the ones outside?"

A stamping of feet filled the hall, and other men appeared there.

"Got two of 'em, Gramont!" responded the leader. "The third slipped in here--ah, there he is!"

Poor Charlie the Goog lay dead on the floor--a touch of heroic tragedy in his last desperate action; the one great action of his life, possibly. He had realized that it meant doom yet he had done what he could.

"I think that's all," said Gramont. "We've sure made a killing, boys--and it's a good thing you jumped in to the minute! A second later and they'd have done for me. Take care of that evidence, will you? Get that mail sack and the letters particularly; if they've been working their lottery outside the state, it'll be a Federal matter."

Gumberts, who was being tied up with his friends, uttered a hoa.r.s.e cry.

"Who are you guys? You can't do this without authority----"

"Don't be silly, Memphis Izzy!" said Gramont, smiling a little, then twitching to the pain of his arm. "These friends of mine are members with me of the American Legion, and they've come along at my request to put you crooks where you belong. As for authority, you can ask and go hang.

"Here, boys, I've got to get out to that barn. Come along, some of you! We'll get my arm tied up later. n.o.body hurt out here?"

"Not a sc.r.a.p, even," responded the leader, with a trace of disgust. "All three of those b.u.ms were outside, and we covered 'em as we came out of the brush. The one that got away did so by getting his friends between us and him. But you attended to him."

"And he attended to me likewise," added Gramont, not without a wince of pain.

He led the way out to the barn, and, the others trooping in behind him, entered. He pointed out the car which had brought Chacherre here previously, and ordered the extra seat in back opened up.

"I think there's a bundle inside," he said. "What's in it, I don't know----"

"Here we are, cap."

A bundle was produced, and opened. In it was found the aviator's costume which Gramont had worn as the Midnight Masquer, and which Chacherre had stolen with the loot. Wrapped among the leathern garments was an automatic pistol.

Gramont stood aghast before this discovery, as realization of what it meant broke full upon him.

"Good lord!" he exclaimed, amazedly. "Boys--why, it must have been Ben Chacherre who killed Maillard! See if that pistol has been used----"

The Midnight Masquer had fired two bullets into Maillard. Two cartridges were gone from this automatic.

CHAPTER XV.

When the Heavens Fall.

The chief of police entered the office of Jachin Fell, high in the Maison Blanche building, at eight o'clock on Friday evening. Mr. Fell glanced up at him in surprise.

"h.e.l.lo, chief! What's up?"

The officer gazed at him in some astonishment.

"What's up? Why, I came around to see you, of course!"

Jachin Fell smiled whimsically. "To see me? Well, chief, that's good of you; sit down and have a cigar, eh? What's the matter? You look rather taken aback."

"I am," said the other, bluntly. "Didn't you expect me?"

"No," said Jachin Fell, halting suddenly in the act of reaching for a cigar and turning his keen gaze upon the chief. "Expect you? No!"

"It's darned queer, then! That chap Gramont called me up about ten minutes ago and said to get around here as quick as I could make it, that you wanted to see me."

"Gramont!" Jachin Fell frowned. "Where's Ben Chacherre? Haven't you found him yet?"

"Nary a sign of him, chief."

The door opened, and Henry Gramont appeared, his right hand bandaged and in a sling.

"Good evening, gentlemen!" he said, smiling.

"Here's Gramont now," exclaimed Fell. "Did you call the chief over here----"

"I sure did," and Gramont came forward. "I wanted to see you two gentlemen together, and so arranged it. Miss Ledanois is to be here at nine, Fell?"

The little man nodded, his eyes intent upon Gramont. He noticed the bandaged arm.

"Yes. Have you been hurt?"

"Slightly." Gramont brought up a chair across the desk from Fell, and sat down. He put his left hand in his breast pocket, and brought forth a doc.u.ment which he handed to the chief of police. "Cast your eye over that, chief, and say nothing. You're here to listen for the present. Here's something to cover your case, Mr. Fell."

Gramont produced his automatic from the pocket of his coat, and laid it on the desk before him. There was a moment of startled silence. The officer, looking over the paper which Gramont had handed him, seemed to find it of sudden, intense interest.

"What means all this mystery and melodramatic action, Gramont?" demanded Jachin Fell, a slight sneer in his eyes, his voice quite toneless.

"It means," said Gramont, regarding him steadily, "that you're under arrest. I went out to the Gumberts place on Bayou Terrebonne this morning, arrested Memphis Izzy Gumberts and four other men engaged in operating a lottery, and also arrested two mechanics who were engaged in working on stolen cars. We took in, further, a gentleman by the name of d.i.c.k Hearne; a lesser member of the gang, who is now engaged in dictating a confession. Just a moment, chief! I prefer to do the talking at present."

The chief of police had been about to interfere. At this, however, he leaned back in his chair, tapping in his hand the paper which he had perused. He looked very much as though in danger from a stroke of apoplexy.

Gramont smiled into the steady, unfaltering eyes of Fell.

"You are next on the programme," he said, evenly. "We know that you are at the head of an organized gang, which is not only operating a lottery through this and adjacent states, but also is conducting an immense business in stolen automobiles. Therefore----"

"Just one minute, please," said Jachin Fell. "Do you forget, Mr. Gramont, the affair of the Midnight Masquer? You are a very zealous citizen, I have no doubt, but----"

"I was about to add," struck in Gramont, "that your pleasant friend Ben Chacherre is charged with the murder of the sheriff of Terrebonne Parish, in which I have clear evidence against him, having been present at the scene of the crime. He is also charged with the murder of Joseph Maillard-----"

"What!" From both Fell and the officer broke an exclamation of undisguised amazement.

"Quite true, I a.s.sure you," said Gramont. "The evidence is, at least, a good deal clearer than the evidence against young Maillard."

"My heavens!" said Fell, staring. "I never dreamed that Chacherre----"

"Perhaps you didn't." Gramont shrugged his shoulders. "Neither did any one else. I imagine that Ben learned of this room and drinking party, and rightly decided that he could make a rich haul off a small crowd of drunken young sports. He had the costume stolen from my car, as you know, also the automatic which went with it. Two shots were missing from the automatic when we found it in Ben's possession; and you remember the Masquer fired twice at the time Maillard was killed."

"Ah! I always said young Maillard wasn't guilty!" exclaimed the chief.

"And your man Hammond----" began Fell. Gramont interposed.

"You thought you had Hammond sewed up tight, didn't you? To use the language of your favourite game, Fell, development is everything, and the player who gives up a p.a.w.n for the sake of development shows that he is possessed of the idee grande. You took the p.a.w.n, or thought you did--but I've taken the game!

"In one way, Fell, I'm very sorry to arrest you. It's going to hurt a mutual friend of ours. I realize that you've been trying very hard to be unselfish toward her, and I think that you've been perfectly sincere in this respect. Nonetheless, I've only one duty in the matter, and I propose to carry it through to the finish."

Fell's keen eyes sparkled angrily.

"You're a very zealous citizen, young man," he said, softly. "I see that you've been hurt. I trust your little game did not result in casualties?"

Gramont nodded. "Charlie the Goog went west. He was desperate, I fancy; at all events he got me in the arm, and I had to shoot him. Memphis Izzy hardly justified his tremendous reputation, for he yielded like a lamb."

"So you killed the Goog, eh?" said Fell. "Very zealous, Mr. Gramont! And I suppose that the exigencies of the case justified you, a private citizen, in carrying arms and using them? Who aided you in this marvellous affair?"

"A number of friends from my post of the American Legion," said Gramont, evenly.

"Ah! This organization is going in for politics, then?"

"Not for politics, Fell; for justice. I deputized them to a.s.sist me."

"Deputized!" repeated Fell, slowly.

"Certainly." Gramont smiled. "You see, this lottery business has been going on for a year or more. Some time ago, before I came to New Orleans, the governor of this state appointed me a special officer to investigate the matter. There is my commission, which the chief has been reading. It gives me a good deal of power, Fell; quite enough power to gather in you and your bunch.

"I might add that I have secured an abundance of evidence to prove that the lottery gang, under your supervision, has extended its operations to adjacent states. This, as you are aware, brings the affair into Federal hands if necessary."

The chief of police looked very uneasily from Gramont to Jachin Fell, and back again. Fell sat erect in his chair, staring at Gramont.

"You were the original Midnight Masquer," said Fell in his toneless voice. At this direct charge, and at Gramont's a.s.sent, the chief started in surprise.

"Yes. One reason was that I suspected someone in society, someone high up in New Orleans, to be connected with the gang; but I never dreamed that you were the man, Fell. I rather suspected young Maillard. I am now glad to say that I was entirely wrong. You were the big boss, Fell, and you're going to serve time for it."

Fell glanced at the chief, who cleared his throat as if about to speak. At this moment, however, a sharp knock sounded at the door.

"Come!" called Gramont.

A man entered. It was one of Gramont's deputies, who happened also to be a reporter from one of the morning papers of the city. He carried several sheets of paper which he laid before Gramont. He glanced at Fell, who recognized him and exchanged a nod of greeting, then returned his attention to Gramont.

"Ah!" said the latter with satisfaction, as he examined the papers. "So Hearne has given up everything, has he? Does this confession implicate Mr. Fell, here?"

"Well, rather," drawled the other, cheerfully. "And see here, cap! There are two more of us in the crowd and we've arranged to split the story. We'd like to rush the stuff to our papers the minute you give the word, because----"

"I know." Gramont returned the papers that bore the confession of Hearne. "You've made copies of this, of course? All right. Shoot the stuff in to your papers right away, if you wish."

Fell raised a hand to check the other.

"One moment, please!" he said, his eyes boring into the newspaper man. "Will you also take a message from me to the editor of your newspaper--and see that it goes to the others as well?"