Midnight Part 12

"First, he had sublet his apartment. Second, he had with him eleven hundred dollars in cash. Third, he left his automobile with a dealer here to be sold, and did not place an order for any other car. And fourth--" Leverage paused impressively.

"Yes--and fourth?"

"He fired his valet yesterday!"

CHAPTER VII

THE VALET TALKS

There was a triumphant ring to Leverage's statement that the dead man's valet had been discharged at some time during the twenty-four hours which immediately preceded the killing. It was as if his instinct recognized a combination of circ.u.mstances which could not be ignored. Carroll looked up interestedly.

"Have you talked to this fellow?"

"No. I figured I'd better leave that phase of it to you; but I'm having him watched. Cartwright is on the job. Right now the man is at his boarding-place on Larson Street."

Carroll started for the door.

"Let's go," he suggested laconically.

It was but a few minutes' drive from headquarters to the boarding-house of Roland Warren's former valet. Carroll parked his car at the curb and inspected the place closely from the outside.

There was little architectural beauty to recommend the house. It was a rambling, dilapidated, two-story structure, sadly in need of paint and repairs, and bespeaking occupancy by a family none too well blessed with the better things of existence. They proceeded to the door and rang the bell. A slatternly woman answered their summons, and Leverage addressed her:

"We wish to see William Barker, please."

"William Barker?"

"Yes. I believe he moved here yesterday."

"Oh, that feller!" The woman started inside. "Wait a minute," she said crossly, and shut the door in their faces.

While they stood waiting, Leverage glanced keenly up and down the street, and his eye lighted on the muscular figure of Cartwright, the plainclothes man, s.h.i.+vering in the partial shelter of an alley across the way. The policeman signaled them that all was well, and resumed his vigil. At that minute the door opened and the woman reappeared.

"He ain't home!" she said, and promptly closed the door again.

Carroll looked at Leverage and Leverage looked at Carroll. Leverage crossed the street and interrogated Cartwright.

"The landlady says he's out, Cartwright. How about it?"

"b.u.m steer, chief! The bird's there--I'll bet my silk s.h.i.+rt on it!"

Leverage recrossed the street and reported to Carroll.

"You're pretty sure Cartwright has the straight dope!"

"Sure thing," said the chief. "He's one of the most reliable men on the force, and when he says a thing, he knows it."

Carroll stroked his beardless chin. There was a hard, calculating light in his eyes--eyes which alternated between a soft, friendly blue and a steely gray. Finally he looked up at Leverage.

"What's your idea, Eric?"

"About him sendin' word he was out when we know he ain't?"

"Exactly."

"It looks darn funny to me, Carroll! 'Pears like he didn't want to discuss the affair with us."

"He don't know who we are."

"He can guess pretty well. Any guy with a head on his shoulders knows the valet of a murdered man is going to be quizzed by the police."

"Good! Come on."

Carroll put a firm hand on the k.n.o.b and turned it. Then he stepped into the dingy reception hall, followed by the city's chief of police.

At the sound of visitors, the angular frame of the boarding-house-keeper appeared in the doorway, her eyes flas.h.i.+ng antagonistically. Leverage turned back the lapel of his coat and disclosed the police badge.

"Listen here, lady," he said in a voice whose very softness brooked no opposition; "that bird Barker is here, and we're going to see him. Police business! Where's his room?"

The woman's face grew ashen.

"What's he been doin'?" she quavered. "What's he been up to now?"

"What's he been up to before this?" countered Leverage.

"I don't know anything about him. Swear to Gawd I don't! He just come here yesterday an' took a room. Paid cash in advance."

"He's in his room, ain't he?"

"What if he is? He told me to tell anybody who come along that he was out. I didn't know you was cops. Oh, I hope there ain't nothin' goin' to ruin the reputation of this place! There ain't a woman in town who runs a decenter place than this."

"n.o.body's going to know anything," rea.s.sured Carroll, "provided you keep your own tongue between your teeth. Now take us to Barker's room."

The boarding-house-keeper led the way up a flight of dark and twisting stairs, along a musty hall. She paused before a door at the far end.

"There it is, sirs--and--"

"You go downstairs," whispered Carroll. "If we should find you trying to listen at the keyhole--"

His manner made it unnecessary to finish the threat. The woman departed, fluttering with excitement. Leverage's hand found the k.n.o.b, and Carroll nodded briefly. The door was flung open, and the two men entered.

"What the--"

The occupant of the room leaped to his feet and stood staring, his face gone pasty white, his demeanor one of terror, which Carroll could see he was fighting to control. Leverage closed the door gently and gazed at the man upon whom they had called.