The young woman began to laugh.
“That’s already a confession,” she said. “You know more about it than you claim. But persist in your lies if you want to. Your stubbornness will, I guarantee you, get you some years more.”
“I won’t add a word. What I said is true. Believe it or not; it’s all the same to me.”
He sat down on the bench, hid his face in his hands, and remained motionless. Ethel King stayed planted in front of him. A minute went by in silence. Then the man lifted his eyes and shook his fist when he saw the detective’s mocking smile.
“The Devil! What more do you want with me?” he shouted. “Since I’ve told you I won’t answer you; leave me in peace.”
“Very well. I’m going to walk over to the cell of fat Jenny, the laundress. Her statements are so clear that we don’t need your confession.”
When Ethel King named Jenny the laundress, rage tore apart the prisoner’s features. He became livid, then the blood flowed into his face and he turned purple. He jumped up and walked about excitedly in his cell like an enraged lion.
“Really!” he exclaimed. “So you know everything. We’ve been betrayed! That Jenny Burde, that I had so much trust in, has handed me over. Oh! The pig! But I want…”
But he stopped, looking with hate at Ethel King.
“So you’ve won! You’ve picked up the trace of Jenny. You’ve discovered the secrets of the Norris Street laundry.”
“Absolutely!”
The man raised his fists.
“Demon! I’ll strangle you!”
He wanted to throw himself on the young woman, but she was already threatening him with her revolver.
“Stop!” she said in a sharp voice. “One step more and you’re dead!”
The rogue stopped as if rooted in his steps. His chest heaved convulsively. Ethel King retreated as far as the door and knocked to tell the jailer to open for her. When she had gotten out and the jailer had closed the door again, Ethel King opened the grill in the door and said to the prisoner, who was still planted in the middle of the cell:
“I’m going now to the Norris Street laundry. Not one of the four women has been arrested yet. I didn’t even know that they were laundresses and that one of them was named Jenny Burde. But, thanks to you, I’ve learned some very interesting things. I think it won’t be too difficult for me to rid society of your infamous gang. A thousand thanks, old fellow!”
The grill closed. The criminal had remained as if petrified on hearing that he had betrayed his accomplices without intending to. When he understood that Ethel King had tricked him, he threw himself against the door with a cry of rage and hit his fists against the massive panel as if he wanted to knock it down. Ethel King paid no attention. She returned to Inspector Golding’s office.
“Back already?” Inspector Golding asked. “Wasn’t I right? Either this Tom Kensing is innocent or he’s diametrically the opposite and a stubborn fellow.”
“Oh! No. On the contrary, he was completely frank with me,” the young woman said, smiling. “I learned everything I wanted from him. I have the firm hope, Mr. Golding, to shortly deliver to you, tomorrow probably, that infamous female quartet and their accomplices.”
“That’s marvelous! If you do that, Miss King, you will have solved a difficult problem in the most brilliant fashion. And I can tell you that you have once again shown us up, the regular police, I mean.”
The young woman was content to smile. She took leave of the inspector and returned to her home to confer with Charley Lux, her cousin and assistant, on the steps to be taken. It was a matter, first of all, of finding the Norris Street laundry where Jenny Burde was employed.
The Laundry
Norris Street, on the east side, is one of the shortest streets in Philadelphia. The old houses which line it are occupied by a lower class population and people are stacked up by the hundreds in one single building. The police descend frequently into these houses, which often serve as hideouts for the worst criminals.
Jenny Burde’s laundry was located at the back of No. 66, in a narrow and dark courtyard. She had only an impoverished clientele. However, there was no shortage of work. The establishment had no fewer than three washerwomen who worked all day at their vats.
The washroom was located in the cellar. The first floor, with its three rooms, served as living quarters for the owner and her employees. In addition to the washroom, the basement contained other rooms which the laundress always kept locked.
Ethel King had first concentrated her inquiries in that part of the street which she knew was badly inhabited, and she had quickly learned of the laundry’s existence.
There was a lot of activity in the washroom. The four women were occupied scrubbing linen, but it was easy to see that they had no taste for the work. They often left their washtubs and went into the neighboring room where there were bottles of brandy lined up with all kinds of delicacies.
The washerwomen were already greatly under the influence of alcohol. They were laughing, exchanging dirty jokes, and singing. They were not getting through a lot of work. The afternoon was already far advanced. One of them shouted:
“That’s enough for today. I’m tired of working like a dog for a few miserable pennies.”
“You’re right, Jenny,” another one answered. “We must get busy to pull off some more good jobs. After that we’ll be able to retire.”
“Be patient! This won’t last much longer, Nanny,” the woman responded. “When we let out the one who’s inside right now, that will be at a good price. The situation is excellent, you can take my word for it, and I think that afterwards each one of us can retire with our $10,000 in our pockets.”
Shouts of joy erupted, and the four women chanted in triumph. At that moment, the door leading to the courtyard opened suddenly and the washerwomen hushed. An ill-kempt, dirty man entered, stopped and looked around at the women with confusion.
“Is she here?” he asked, out of breath.
The laundresses looked at each other with astonishment, and Jenny answered.
“Who are you looking for?”
“My sister.”
“Look at the four of us. Do you recognize your sister?”
The women burst out laughing.
“That boy could be our son, but our brother, never!” one of them observed.
“What’s she like, your sister,” Jenny asked.
“You won’t betray us?” the young man asked, looking at the four women with distrust.
“Come now, why would we do that?”
“Will you protect us…and…”
He hesitated.
“But, go on then, speak!” Jenny exclaimed. “If it’s the police you’re afraid of, you’re safe with us.”
“Really?”
“You can certainly believe me when I tell you so. We aren’t exactly the friends of the blue tunics and when we can play them a bad turn, we don’t miss doing it.”
The adolescent breathed easy.
“I believe you. I can see by your face that you can be trusted.”
“Thanks for those good words,” Jenny said, laughing.
“The police are, in fact, on our heels. We’ve run like crazy.”
“What did you do?
He was silent a moment and looked the washerwomen up and down. Then he said:
“It was in the street. We roughed up a lady a little. She’s probably taking a trip to eternity.”
He had said these last words in an almost inaudible voice, backing off toward the door, as if afraid that the laundresses, on hearing his confession, might cry out for help. But Jenny told him:
“Stay. We won’t betray you. We’ll hide you and your sister.”
“Then this isn’t a trap?”
“No, certainly not!”
“I’ll go back out to the street to look for my sister. I saw her hide in that courtyard. Can I bring her back with me?”
“But naturally.”
“If you protect us, we’l
l give you a nice present.”
A burst of laughter greeted that promise.
“You! What do you want to give us?”
The adolescent looked offended and replied:
“Do you really think I don’t have anything? You’re making a big mistake. I’ve just taken something very beautiful from the lady.”
“And what’s that?”
“Do you want me to show you what I’ll give you?”
“But, of course! Show it!”
The young criminal rummaged in his pocket and brought out a bracelet set with diamonds.
“Here’s what you’ll have. That’s worth at least $2000.”
The women’s eyes gleamed with covetousness.
“Then come back with your sister,” the four women exclaimed with one voice. “You don’t have anything to be afraid of. On the contrary, I think we’ll get on very well.”
The young man nodded in satisfaction and replied:
“So much the better. Let’s hope I can find Mary, and that she hasn’t fallen into the hands of the police.”
He went out the door and climbed up to the courtyard. Some ten minutes went by and the adolescent reappeared accompanied by a girl with a more than neglected appearance. She was pale and seemed very excited. The young man came in quickly, while the girl stopped, trembling, on the threshold.
“Here we are. This is my sister Mary.”
“So come in, Mary!” Jenny exclaimed. “You don’t need to be afraid.”
The girl still hesitated.
“I don’t know. You’re laundresses…You won’t betray me?”
“No, what the devil! Hurry up, or the policemen will pinch you.”
“Do you have a safe hiding place for us?” the girl, still distrustful, asked.
“Naturally, and one even better than you imagine.”
At that moment heavy footsteps resounded on the courtyard pavement.
“There they are, the police!” the trembling girl cried out. “Oh! Hide us! Hide us! We’re lost.”
The steps approached the stairs. Jenny ran to the door at the back and opened it.
“Quick! Get in there! Don’t make a sound!”
The adolescent hid in the cellar with his sister and Jenny locked the door. Then she returned to her washing vat, and the four women began to work with scrubbing brushes and beat the clothes as if they still had a great deal of work to do.
The door to the courtyard was pushed open and a policeman appeared on the threshold.
“What! Still at work?” he shouted.
“But, of course. We have a lot to do.”
“Have a young man and a girl by any chance come down there to you? We’re looking for them because they murdered someone.”
“Oh! Murdered!” Jenny exclaimed, shivering in horror. “That’s terrible! Even so, there are some bad rascals on this earth! Try at least to see that those there don’t escape you!”
“So, you haven’t seen them?”
“No, we would tell you if we had. There’s no place in our business for such scoundrels.”
“If you see a suspicious person, warn the police immediately,” the policeman said.
“Don’t worry; but I don’t think anyone will have an idea of coming down here.”
The policeman saluted and left.
However, a curious scene was taking place in the neighboring cellar. When the door had closed, that place was completely dark. But the girl took a flashlight out of her pocket and turned it on. The ray of light fell on the row of food and drink.
“They lead a life of Lucullus here,” the woman said in a low voice, “but that will end in tears and gnashing of teeth.”
There was a bolted door at the back. The girl approached it and placed her ear at the keyhole. She shook her head when she heard stifled sobs.
“She’s inside there, Charley,” she murmured. “We’re in the gang’s hideout.”
The two who were pretending to be murderers were none other than Ethel King and Charley Lux. After what she had learned, Ethel King could have requisitioned help from the police and raided Jenny Burde’s establishment, but she preferred to go about it differently. She was afraid that the shrews had imprisoned their victim in a secret hideout where someone who didn’t know about it would not have been able to gain entrance. If the women had been arrested, they probably would not have betrayed their secret, and the unfortunate prisoner would be dead of starvation in her hidden cell.
Ethel King could now ascertain that the door to the cellar was not hidden, but she was nevertheless glad that she had first entered alone in the place.
At the end of an hour, Jenny again opened the door to the laundry.
“The danger is past,” she said. “You are absolutely safe; the police won’t come back.”
The washerwoman told what had happened, exaggerating the conversation with the policeman. Ethel King thanked the woman warmly, and shook her red, somewhat swollen hands.
The description Mrs. O’Beering had given of the leader of the gang fit Jenny Burde completely. She had a puffy face, a grayish complexion, green eyes, untidy hair and full lips.
The women stopped work and passed into the middle cave where they began to drink and eat. They invited their guests to partake of the food and drink.
“What do you think? Why don’t you stay here all the time,” suggested Jenny, on whom the alcohol was having more and more effect.
“Stay here all the time?” Ethel King replied. “But that can’t be.”
“And why not?”
“Because you can’t require my brother to help you with the washing, and because I myself don’t feel I have any taste for that job.”
The women laughed.
“It’s not in the washing you can help us. You can be useful in another way,” Jenny said mysteriously.
Ethel King pretended great curiosity.
“Another way? So you have another profession?”
“Oh, yes, and a very lucrative one, I hope you may believe it. However, to exercise it you have to have a big conscience, as you yourselves do. It’s a matter, in fact, something like what you did this evening and which almost got you caught.”
“Ah! So that’s it!” Charley exclaimed. “Then I’m for it and I bet that my sister will go along too.”
“Why not? The essential thing is that it brings in money.”
“Good Lord!” Jenny said. She went into a corner of the cellar, dislodged a loose stone from the wall and took several stacks of bank notes from the hole and showed them to her new friends.
“Look! Here’s what that brings in,” she said. “Are you in?”
“That goes without saying. But now tell me, what it’s all about.”
The horrible woman leaned over to the detective’s ear and whispered.
“We lock up rich people here in our cellar and keep them prisoner until we’ve been paid a fitting ransom to give them their liberty.”
“And if you aren’t paid?”
The old woman laughed silently and diabolically.
“In that case, the prisoners don’t leave here alive.”
“All right, but how do you manage to bring them here without anyone knowing about it?”
“We go about it very cleverly. The last time we had to do the job all alone, because Sam Workman is in prison.”
“Sam Workman? Who’s that?”
“My son and our assistant,” another woman declared.
“And why is he in prison?”
“Because he was the messenger. We put him in charge of going for the ransom, but he was arrested. Naturally they don’t have anything against him. He said that he had received the commission from someone he didn’t know who came up to him in the street. They will be forced to release him.”
“That’s very clever,” Ethel King said. “So you now have a bird in the cage?”
“Yes, there, behind that door,” Jenny whispered in the ear of her new accomplices.
“Who is it?”
&nbs
p; “If we only knew!”
“What! You’ve kidnapped someone and you don’t even know who it is?”
Jenny’s eyes gleamed with rage. “She won’t say. But no matter how stubborn she is, we’ll certainly make her talk.”
“How will you do that? So you haven’t yet tried?”
“Yes we have. We picked up that little girl not far from Line Street. It was between 11 p.m. and midnight…nobody in the street…I slipped up behind the young girl and, wham, a nice little tap on the back of the head made her see 36 candles.
“We carried her here through the courtyard and we threw her in there on the pallet. When she regained consciousness, we asked her to tell us who she was, but she refused to answer. We wanted to jump on her to give her a good thrashing, but she drew a revolver and pointed it at us. We beat a fast retreat. The rogue fired, but fortunately didn’t hit us. We had time to go outside and lock her up.”
“How long has she been here?”
“Since this morning.”
“What have you decided?”
“She may be sleeping now. We want to slip inside without making any noise and take away her revolver.”
“And if she’s not asleep?”
“We’ll let her stay locked up until hunger and fatigue wear down her strength. Then we’ll make sure of her.”
Jenny went to listen at the door of the cell, and not hearing anything, she whispered:
“She seems to be asleep. I’m going to try to open the door.”
“Hand me the key,” Ethel King advised. “I have some experience in the art of opening locks without making any noise.”
“Goddam!” Jenny exclaimed. “You seem, like a remarkable customer!”
She rummaged in her pocket and held out the key to the detective, who used it with remarkable skill. No grating, no click broke the silence. Finally the young woman stepped back.
“It’s open,” she said.
“By thunder! You’re incomparable. I believe you’ll be very useful.”
“My brother too.” Ethel King answered. “We’ve already done a lot of difficult things together.”
“And we’ve often been up against the police,” Charley answered in a significant tone.
“Maybe you can succeed in taking her revolver away from her,” Jenny said to Ethel.
The Adventures of Ethel King, the Female Nick Carter Page 21
