“But he didn’t join you?” asked Sidney Zoom.
“Yes,” she said, in a low voice.
“And Stapleton knew this?”
“I think,” she said, slowly, “that he did.”
“How did he find it out?”
“He used to question me about my past,” she said slowly.
“Some things I told him too much about, and some things not enough. He started checking back on me and I think he found out.”
“And you think Stapleton is the one who killed Venard?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“Have you any proof whatever?”
“None.”
“The gun,” said Sidney Zoom, “must have been tossed into the room after you went into the closet.”
“Yes, of course.”
“Then the window was open?”
“Yes.”
“The fire escape runs just outside of your window?”
“No, it runs down from the hallway, but it comes dose to the room.”
“In other words,” said Sidney Zoom, “you believe that Stapleton intended to murder Venard? He managed to get Venard drunk and inflamed with the idea of going to your apartment. Then Stapleton tricked you into leaving your fingerprints on a gun, sat out on the fire escape, killed Venard, and, when you had gone into the closet, tossed the gun into your apartment.”
“That’s right.”
“And he thought that you’d run away.”
“He knew,” she said slowly, “that I’d have to. Otherwise, it would mean prison on the other charge, even if I weren’t convicted of murder.”
“Perhaps,” said Zoom, “Stapleton left some of his fingerprints on that gun.”
“No, he’s too smart for that. He’d use gloves.”
“Where,” asked Zoom, “is your apartment?”
“In the Richmore Apartments — 35B.”
“Give me your key to the apartment,” Zoom said.
She hesitated a moment, then took a key from her purse and handed it to Sidney Zoom.
“Would it do any good,” said Sidney Zoom, slowly, “if I should tell you that I am inclined to believe your story?”
She shook her head.
“Not a bit,” she said. “I was a little fool. I let myself get talked into becoming a fugitive from justice. I’m all right as long as they don’t take my fingerprints. Whenever they take my fingerprints I’m finished. Then I made the mistake of letting Stapleton know about it. You don’t understand that man. He’s a fiend incarnate; one of those shrewd, scheming individuals who is so smart he’s always one jump ahead.”
“Do you think that he got the marked money that was given as a bribe?” Zoom asked.
“I’m certain of it.”
“Do you know where he hid it?”
“No, he concealed it some place in the house; some place where no one would ever think of looking.”
“They searched the house?”
“Yes, they had a warrant and they searched the house.”
“What did Stapleton do while they were searching the house?”
“He stood by and laughed at them; told them Venard had framed up something on the whole outfit; that if they had trusted Venard with ten thousand dollars, they were simply fools.”
“Did you,” asked Sidney Zoom, “search Venard’s pockets before you left?”
“No, of course not. I got in a panic and ran out of the door without thinking. I threw some things in a suitcase and went down to the depot. I intended to get out of town. Then I suddenly remembered that I was virtually broke. It’s two days to payday and I had spent all of my money.”
“You didn’t have any savings?” he asked.
“I had some,” she said, “They were in one of the banks that closed and didn’t open.”
The locomotive gave a long, shrill blast on the whistle. The coaches started to nimble as the brakes were applied, and the train slowed. Sidney Zoom placed his face against the cold glass of the window and peered out into the darkness. Then he got to his feet and nodded to the girl.
“Leave all of your baggage here,” he said. “Come with me.”
“What are we going to do?” she asked.
“We’re going back,” he told her.
“No,” she said, “I can’t face it — that’s all! They’ll put a murder charge against me and then they’ll hold me on that old embezzlement charge.”
“Can you prove what happened in that case?” he asked.
“No,” she said. “I was just impulsive and foolish and I let them make me the goat.”
Sidney Zoom took her arm and piloted her down the length of the swaying car.
“Well,” he said, “they’d arrest you before nine o’clock tomorrow morning if you tried to get away the way you’re doing now. You’re leaving too broad a back trail. The ticket fellow will remember you, and so will the man at the telegraph office. The first thing the police will do will be to check up on the persons who took the night trains out of town.”
“What are you going to do?”
“We’re going back by automobile and we’re going to see Stapleton.”
“See Stapleton?” she gasped.
Zoom nodded grimly.
Chapter III
Zoom Accuses
Sidney Zoom fitted the key to the spring lock of the apartment, pushed the door open, stepped inside and found the lights blazing down upon that which lay on the floor.
Hastily he kicked the door shut and stood staring about him at the apartment; at the sprawled shape which lay near the window, on the floor.
Slowly, bit by bit, he started reconstructing the crime. There could be no question that there had been a struggle. Chairs were overturned and a small vase had been broken. The window was open.
Carefully, Sidney Zoom stepped across the body of the man, to peer out of the window. He could see the fire escape running up the side of the building, like some dark serpent.
He stepped into the closet and looked over the clothes which hung from the hangers; looked also at the pile of soiled clothes in the comer. Then he returned to the room and stood, as nearly as he could determine, in the position which the man must have occupied when the shot was fired.
Looking at the angle which the bullet must have traversed, he realized that it would have been impossible for a man to have stood upon the fire escape and fired the shot which had plowed in the dead man’s heart. He stood by the body and looked down at the gun which lay on the floor. Then he peered out of the window once more.
Finally, he crossed the apartment, switched out the lights, opened the corridor door, walked to the comer of the corridor, around the turn, down four doors, and knocked gently on the door of an apartment.
There was no answer.
He knocked again, and when there was still no answer, took some passkeys from his pocket and inserted them carefully in the lock, trying them one at a time. The fourth key clicked back the lock. Sidney Zoom opened the door and stepped into the apartment.
It was furnished, but apparently untenanted. He switched on the lights, looked the place over and saw that it had not been lived in for some time. The swinging wall bed had a cobweb hanging in such a position that had the bed been pulled out, the cobweb would have been broken. The kitchenette held a musty smell of stale odors which combined into a rancid assault upon the nostrils.
Zoom walked toward the window of the apartment, knelt down in front of it, and saw that he had a good view of the apartment which had been occupied by Ruby Allison. A chair was drawn up in front of the window, and Sidney Zoom dropped into the chair. As he did so, he let his eyes drift about the floor near the chair, and noticed several little piles of white ash. A wastebasket yielded the stubs of four cigarettes. The cigarettes were all of the same brand — Marlboroughs with cork rips.
Abruptly, Sidney Zoom straightened, set his jaw in a line of grim determination and strode purposefully toward the door. He pulled it open, clicked the lights out and let the spring lat
ch snap into place as the door closed. He paused in the hallway long enough to consult the address book in which he had jotted down the place where Paul Stapleton resided. Then he left the apartment, got in his roadster, and drove through the deserted streets.
He found the house that he wanted, brought his car to a stop, muttered a command to the dog to stay in the car, and walked up the narrow strip of cement which led from the sidewalk to the porch, his feet awakening muffled echoes.
His long, gaunt forefinger pushed steadily against the bell by the side of the front door, holding it with steady insistence.
From the interior of the house came the sound of the jangling bell; after a while, the noise of voices and the sound of feet coming down a flight of stairs.
Sidney Zoom ceased ringing the bell and stepped slightly to one side.
A bolt clicked back. The door came open a mere two inches, where it was held in position by a brass guard chain. A man’s voice said, “Who is it, and what do you want?”
“The name is Zoom. And I want to see Mr. Stapleton upon a matter of importance.”
“Mr. Stapleton has retired,” said the voice.
“Get him up then,” said Zoom. “I want to see him. It’s important.”
“It will have to wait until morning.”
“It won’t wait until morning. I want to see him now.”
A man’s voice from the back of the corridor said irritably, “What is it, James?”
“A man who wants to see you, sir.”
There was the rustle of motion, then a form in pajamas pushed itself up against the narrow crack in the door.
“What do you want?” said the man.
“I want,” said Sidney Zoom, “to see you at once.”
“What about?”
“About a murder,” said Sidney Zoom, his cold, hawk-like eyes piercing the darkness.
“Can you be more explicit?” asked Stapleton. There was a slight catch in his voice.
“Certainly,” Sidney Zoom told him, “but not here, and not now.”
Fingers fumbled with the chain on the door, and then the door opened.
“Come in,” said the man in pajamas.
Sidney Zoom stepped into the corridor, conscious of the startled, perplexed eyes of a servant. He followed the slippered feet of the man in white pajamas, crossed the corridor, entered a room and went through the room into an adjoining room. Light switches clicked, and Sidney Zoom found himself in a library, with the walls panelled with books, huge chairs grouped invitingly near reading lamps that cast mellow rays in a glowing circle. He looked into the face of a man of about fifty years of age; a man whose eyes were wide and brown, whose shoulders were held squarely back, whose chin was thrust forward, and whose lips twitched with the ghost of a smile.
“You wanted to see me,” he asked, “about a murder?”
Sidney Zoom stared steadily at him.
“Do you,” he asked, “know a gentleman by the name of Frank Venard?”
“No,” said Stapleton.
“You mean to say you don’t know him?”
Stapleton’s scowl was cold and mocking.
“I know him,” he said. “He’s not a gentleman; he’s a private detective who has been guilty of subornation of perjury and of planting evidence.”
“Very well,” said Sidney Zoom. “He’s dead.”
“Do you expect me to express regrets?” asked Stapleton.
“I was simply making the statement to you.”
“How did he die?” asked Stapleton.
“He was murdered.”
“Indeed,” said Stapleton. “I had rather expected that one of these days his activities would bring him to an untimely end. However, that is neither here nor there. The man is dead, and we will let it go at that. What was it you wanted to see me about?”
“The thing that I wanted to discuss with you,” said Sidney Zoom, “was the identity of the murderer.”
“I’m sure I couldn’t help you,” said Stapleton.
“I think perhaps you could.”
“In what way, Mr. Zoom?”
“You have a young woman working for you named Ruby Allison?”
“Yes, a very gifted secretary.”
“She has an apartment in the Richmore Apartments?”
“I’m sure I couldn’t tell you where she lives, without looking up the card index that I have in my office. I have an index which gives the addresses of my employees.”
“Well,” said Sidney Zoom, “she lives in the Richmore Apartments. Frank Venard was killed in her apartment some time this evening. He was killed by a .38 caliber Colt revolver.”
Stapleton raised his eyebrows.
“In her apartment?” he said. “Impossible!”
“Nevertheless, that Is a fact.”
“And does she know who killed him?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Sidney Zoom pointed a long, level forefinger.
“You!” he said, and the word cracked like a whiplash.
Stapleton stood for a moment staring at Sidney Zoom, then he smiled, and the smile became a chuckle.
“Zoom,” he said, “I like your dramatic and forceful manner. Doubtless you’re a detective of some sort. I don’t know what your game is. If I am to believe what you tell me, Frank Venard is dead. I will not profess any friendship for the man. He was a man that I detested. He was a private detective who attempted to discredit me by using perjured evidence. However, that is neither here nor there. It is this accusation of murder which causes me some amusement, and perhaps a little concern. I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but you’re going to walk out of this house and if you so much as intimate that I have been guilty of murder or have been concerned in any way with the death of Frank Venard, I will see that you are arrested and charged with criminal slander. Do you understand that?”
Sidney Zoom pulled his hat down low on his forehead, turned toward the door.
“I understand,” he said.
Stapleton watched him curiously as Zoom walked across the room to the front door. The servant held the front door open, and Sidney Zoom strode out into the night.
“Just a moment,” called Stapleton, unable to restrain himself longer, as Zoom made his wordless exit. “I don’t want you to misunderstand me, Mr. Zoom...” Sidney Zoom whirled to face him.
“I don’t misunderstand you,” he said. “Either you are guilty of murder, or I have been misled. I just want to tell you that if you are guilty of murder, all that suave cunning which has heretofore served you will not stand between you and your punishment. Do you understand that?”
Stapleton’s face did not change expression. There was still the same mocking glint in his eyes; the same sardonic smile twisting his lips.
“Yes,” he said, “I understand what you say, but your words mean nothing to me.”
“You have,” said Sidney Zoom, “always outwitted the persons with whom you came in contact. That has been your strong point; the thing that has hitherto enabled you to laugh at justice. Now I am telling you that there is something higher than the ordinary technical man-made justice that you have been mocking; something that is more infallible than the laws of man filled with technicalities that you have taken advantage of, and I have the honor, sir, to wish you a very good evening.”
Zoom waited for no further words, but strode across the porch, down the steps, then along the walk to his automobile. He slammed the door and drove off into the night.
Behind him, Paul Stapleton stood in the doorway, staring along the road after the gleaming ruby which marked the tail light of Zoom’s automobile.
The expression of mocking, sardonic humor was no longer on Stapleton’s face. His eyes were slitted in thought, and his face had set into grim lines.
“James,” he said, without turning his head.
“Yes, sir,” said the servant.
“If that man ever comes near this house again, see that he doesn’t get in.”
“Yes,
sir.”
“If you catch him prowling around, act on the theory that he is a burglar, and shoot him.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And shoot to kill.”
“Yes, sir.”
Paul Stapleton stepped back into the house and slammed the door. The servant slipped the safety chain into position.
Chapter IV
Mad Dog
Once more, Sidney Zoom entered the chamber of death. He entered for a particular purpose, and moved with swift efficiency. The lights clicked on. Zoom walked across the room, stooped to the murder gun, picked it up and started polishing its greasy surface with a handkerchief. He polished the gun until the steel fairly shone; polished it until all of the oil and grease had been removed from the blued steel surface. Then he breathed upon it and polished again, taking care all of the time not to touch it with the tips of his fingers, holding it only with the cloth touching the steel.
When he had carefully and completely obliterated all fingerprints from the gun, he looked around the apartment until he found a small bottle of oil. He placed a thin coat of oil over the steel of the gun, rubbing it with the corner of his handkerchief so that it was evenly distributed. Then, holding the gun in the folds of the handkerchief, he once more left the apartment.
Sidney Zoom moved with a swift purpose, as though his actions had been carefully rehearsed. He went down the corridor, turned the comer, stepped to the door of the vacant apartment.
He knew now exactly which skeleton key delivered results, and it was but a moment until he had clicked back the bolt and opened the door.
Once in the apartment, he walked directly to the window, then paused for a moment, thinking. Finally he nodded to himself and slipped his hand to his coat pocket. He took out several .38 blank cartridges which he had carried up from his automobile, which was a veritable storehouse of various weapons and munitions.
The Casebook of Sidney Zoom Page 30
