by Joan Clark
CHAPTER XIII
The Raid
At exactly ten minutes to eleven on the following night, eight policecars rolled swiftly down the boulevard. In a congested portion of thecity they drew up to the curbing, waiting for Christopher Nichols whorode with his daughter in a dark sedan.
Jerome Davis, in charge of the raid, came over to speak to thedetective.
"Everything is all set, Mr. Nichols. We have the entire neighborhoodbottled up. Every alley and street guarded."
"Good. And the Hamilton building?"
"It is surrounded. At exactly eleven my men will raid both places.It's a cinch we'll get Rap Molberg and his gang this time."
"You're certain no hint of the raid has leaked out?"
Jerome Davis laughed confidently.
"Even now my men aren't sure what's coming off. This raid can't fail,Mr. Nichols. We had a straight tip where Molberg could be found andwe'll get him!"
"Then go ahead exactly as we planned," Mr. Nichols directed. "On tothe Blind Pig Cafe!"
Jerome Davis returned to the waiting cars, relaying the detective'sorders. In single file the police automobiles moved forward. Theyrounded a corner and bore down upon a brightly illuminated restaurant.
With a start Penny recognized it as the same place where she had metBetty Davis the previous evening.
"What a coincidence!" she thought. "How embarrassing it would be forMr. Davis if his son should be found in there tonight!"
The appearance of the first officer in the doorway of the Blind Pig wassufficient to give warning that a raid was under way. The few personswho were dining inside made wild dashes for the doors and windows.They were quickly captured by officers stationed at all the exits.Although the room lights had been snapped out, no shots were fired.
"Something is wrong!" Mr. Nichols exclaimed, abruptly leaving the sedanfrom which he had been watching. "It looks to me like a tip-off."
A few minutes after her father had disappeared into the cafe, Penny sawthe policemen load perhaps six or seven prisoners into the waitingcars. But it was apparent even to her that the raid had failed. Thepersons arrested obviously were not members of the Molberg gang.
Mr. Nichol's face was dark when he came back to the sedan. Without aword he started the engine and drove rapidly off.
"What happened?" Penny asked timidly.
"Oh, the usual," the detective snapped. "It was a tip-off. Only a fewpersons were in the cafe and the clubrooms to the rear were completelydeserted. Not a scrap of evidence. We'll have to release all theprisoners."
"Where are we going now, Dad?"
"To the Hamilton Plant. There's just a chance that the raid there wasmore successful, though I doubt it."
"Who could have carried the information?" Penny inquired.
"I don't know. That's what bothers me. Penny, you're certain younever dropped a word of this?"
"Why, of course not!"
"I don't mean intentionally, of course. You're sure you nevermentioned the raid to your friend Susan?"
"Absolutely not," Penny maintained indignantly. "For that matter, Ididn't know the Blind Pig was the place you were raiding."
"That's true," Mr. Nichols acknowledged. "I didn't mean to offend you,Penny. I was only seeking information. I can't see how the newsleaked out unless--"
"Unless what?" Penny probed.
"I'll not say it."
"You meant, unless Jerome Davis had betrayed his trust!"
"Well, yes, that was what I was thinking. This is the first occasionI've had to question his honesty. It may be I haven't given enoughconsideration to the stories which have circulated regarding Davis."
"You said you believed they were started by his political enemies."
"Yes, and I'm still inclined to think that, although the failure ofthis raid looks peculiar to say the least. I'll have to be morecareful in my dealings with Davis."
"If the Molberg outfit didn't regard him as an enemy then why wouldthey throw a warning note through the window?" Penny demanded.
"That could have been faked--it might have been a dodge to impress you."
"I don't see how it could have been, Dad. You see, I met Betty Davisquite by accident that evening. On the spur of the moment I acceptedher invitation to stop a few minutes at the house. It was while I wasthere that the message was thrown through the window. It couldn't havebeen planned."
"Not very well," Mr. Nichols admitted. "Davis may be honest enough,but if I find he's a loose talker, his usefulness for me will be ended."
The sedan had reached the dead-end street which led to the vacantHamilton Plant. An officer stepped out of the shadow to challenge Mr.Nichols, but recognizing him, saluted instead.
"What luck?" the detective asked.
"I can't tell you, sir. I've heard nothing since I was stationed here."
Penny and her father drove on between the rows of police cars whichlined the narrow street. As they halted at the far end of thethoroughfare, an officer came to speak with them.
"Did you get into the building?" Mr. Nichols inquired tersely.
"Yes, your daughter's instructions were very clear. We had no trouble."
"What did you find?"
"Everything was exactly as Miss Nichols said. The place has been usedby the Molberg outfit, that's clear. But there wasn't a sign ofanyone, and the desk which Miss Nichols mentioned as being in thelittle office, was gone."
"Looks like they got wind of what was up, doesn't it?"
"That's the way I figure it," the officer returned. "Not much we cando except wreck the place so it can't be used again."
Mr. Nichols talked with several other policemen, and then, satisfiedthat he had learned all the details of the unsuccessful raid, tookPenny home.
"I suppose this means we'll not be taking that vacation into themountains very soon," she commented when they were alone in the livingroom.
"I'm afraid of it, Penny. Would you care to go by yourself?"
"No, I'd prefer to wait until you can go too. Besides, I've becomedeeply absorbed in this Molberg case."
"I've noticed that," her father smiled. "I never suspected that my owndaughter had such hidden talents for sleuthing."
"Now you're teasing!" Penny accused.
"No, your discoveries have astonished me, Penny. Perhaps you werefavored a little by luck, but you've unearthed information which evenmy most skilled investigators were unable to turn up."
"My clues didn't prove of much value after all."
"It wasn't your fault that they didn't. A detective must learn toexpect disappointments."
"So it seems," Penny sighed. "Now that Rap Molberg escaped the policenet, what will be your next move?"
"I don't know yet, Penny."
"Perhaps Rap Molberg will leave the city."
"I don't think there's much chance of that. He'll remain in hiding fora few days or weeks, then strike again. You must have a constantbodyguard, Penny."
"Oh, Dad! If you knew how I hated it! I couldn't feel that even mythoughts were my own!"
"Sorry, Penny, but it's for your own safety."
"Oh, all right, I submit," Penny grumbled good-naturedly. "Only if Imust have someone tagging at my heels all the time, please make himtall and handsome!"
"I don't usually select my men for their beauty," Mr. Nichols smiled."But I'll do the best I can for you."
Although Penny disliked the idea of being closely watched, actually abodyguard was not as annoying as she had imagined it might be. JoeFraney, the detective assigned by Mr. Nichols to the service, was youngand, while not handsome, distinguished in appearance. His bearing gaveno hint of his professional calling. Penny found Joe very likeable.He never irritated her by making her aware of his presence--in fact,for hours at a time she never saw him at all--yet when she was on thestreet she was seldom out of his sight.
For the next few days, following Joe's assignment to his new duties,Penny and Susan slyly amused themselves b
y trying to see if they couldoutwit him. They led the detective a gay chase from one end of thecity to another. They dropped into department stores, dodging in onedoor and out another, but when they were confident they had baffledJoe, they were very apt to see him watching them from a doorway acrossthe street.
Or if they entered a theatre apparently unobserved by the faithfulsleuth they were almost certain to see him only a few seats behind.But soon Joe became such a fixture in Penny's life that she acceptedhim without much thought.
True to Mr. Nichols' prediction, all remained quiet on the Rap Molbergfront save that the unsuccessful raid had stirred up an aftermath ofbitter criticism. The local newspapers provided considerableunfavorable publicity; editors ran scorching editorials blaming Mr.Nichols and the police for the failure to break up the Molberg gang.
Infuriated by the comments of the press, the police commissioner calledboth the detective and Jerome Davis to his office. Neither couldexplain the failure of the raid. It was obvious that someone hadallowed information to leak and since only Mr. Nichols and a fewpolicemen had known the details of the raid, suspicion tended to centerupon Jerome Davis.
"It's only a matter of days until he'll be discharged from the force,"Mr. Nichols told his daughter.
"Surely you don't think he'd be guilty of helping Rap Molberg?" Pennyquestioned.
"I don't know what to believe. Davis was called on the carpetyesterday and given an opportunity to explain a number of things. Hewouldn't talk."
"But that doesn't prove necessarily that he's guilty, does it?"
"No, but he's acted strangely of late. The fact remains that someonelet information leak either by accident or deliberately. Davis was ina bad spot before this. Now I'm afraid nothing can save his job."
"I feel so sorry for Betty," Penny murmured. "She'll take it hard ifher father is discharged."
"You mustn't worry about it," Mr. Nichols advised kindly. "Davis hadhis chance to make good and seemingly failed. Now matters must taketheir own course."
"Couldn't you do anything to save his position, Dad?"
"I doubt it, Penny. At any rate, I shouldn't care to interfere ... forI'm not convinced that the commissioner isn't right. Davis is a queertype."
"Just the same I can't help feeling he's honest," Penny maintainedfirmly. "Couldn't there have been another reason for the failure ofthe raid?"
"Yes, but Davis was under suspicion before this. And since the raidhe's been anything but cooperative."
"Then I suppose nothing can be done, but it seems a pity."
Penny did not speak of the matter again to her father but in secret shecontinued to mull over the unfortunate situation. She had developed adeep liking for Betty Davis, yet she readily acknowledged that in manyways the girl acted queerly.
"It's too much for me to figure out," Penny confessed to Susan oneafternoon. "Everything seems to be such a hopeless contradiction.Betty lets on that she is desperately afraid her father will be harmedby Rap Molberg and yet the police claim that Mr. Davis is reallyabetting the criminals."
"Have you ever met her brother?"
"Jimmie?" Penny asked. "No, but from what she told me I suspect he'ssomething of a problem."
"I haven't seen Betty in days," Susan remarked. "Why not call on herthis afternoon?"
Penny hesitated an instant, then agreed. Considering her father'sassociation with Mr. Davis she was not certain that the visit would bevery tactful.
"We must be careful and not say anything that could offend her," shewarned.
"Of course," Susan agreed. "Shall we drive over in my car?"
At the Davis cottage a few minutes later, they caught a glimpse ofsomeone moving about on the upper floor. But when they rapped upon thedoor there was no response.
"I know I saw Betty looking out of an upstairs window just as we droveup," Susan whispered.
"Perhaps she doesn't care to see us then. Come on, Sue, let's notknock again."
They quietly withdrew to the car.
"Where to now?" Susan inquired as she snapped on the ignition.
"Oh, anywhere. I've nothing special to do this afternoon."
Susan stepped on the electric starter, but the engine refused torespond. She readjusted gasoline and spark levers to no avail.
"Stalled again!" she complained bitterly. "I never saw such a car!We've had nothing but trouble since we bought it."
"Perhaps it's only flooded," Penny suggested hopefully.
Susan shook her head.
"It's done this before. Nothing to do but call the garage. Anyway,Mr. Brunner promised he'd give the car a free overhaul, and this is hischance to make good."
The girls telephoned the Brunner garage from a drug store locateddirectly across the street. They waited nearly half an hour before theblue service car arrived to tow them in.
"May I speak to Mr. Brunner?" Susan politely asked one of the garageemployees.
"Sorry but he's busy," was the curt reply. "I'll handle any complaintyou have to make."
Susan gave a somewhat lengthy account of her car troubles. Theemployee scarcely bothered to listen. When she had finished, he saidbriefly.
"I'll check the car over and have it ready in half an hour."
"Let's wait," Susan proposed.
They found chairs nearby. In fifteen minutes, the same employeereturned to report that the car was ready.
"So soon?" Susan said in surprise. "Why, I'm sure you couldn't havechecked over everything in such a short while."
"The car will start now. If you want a general overhaul you'll have topay for it."
"But Mr. Brunner promised me when I bought the automobile that ifanything went wrong he'd make it right!" Susan protested indignantly."I've driven the car less than five hundred miles and it's almostfalling apart! May I see Mr. Brunner?"
"He's in his office," the man informed reluctantly.
"And where is that?"
"Down the hall. The second door from the end."
Crossing through the deserted repair shop, the girls made their waydown the dark hallway. The door which the employee had indicated stoodslightly ajar.
As Penny and Susan drew near they heard angry voices.
"You can threaten me all you like, but I tell you I'm through! I'llnever do any more work for you, Brunner!"
"You'll do exactly as I say or--" The manager abruptly broke off forhe had noticed the two girls standing at the open door. "Come in, comein!" he beamed.
Penny's keen glance traveled beyond George Brunner to the person whomhe had addressed in such an abusive tone.
It was Jerry Barrows.
