Detectives, Inc.: A Mystery Story for Boys

by Herbert Strang

  THE UNKNOWN FOUR

  Dr. David Stone, walking rapidly beside Lady, seemed unaware of thepenetrating chill of the pale, thin dawn. His broad shoulders swung withhis stride, his coat was open, and no hat covered the white hair of hismagnificently-formed head. But Joe Morrow, his nephew, huddled down intoa turtle-neck sweater and shivered.

  "Joe," said Dr. Stone, "I shouldn't have let you come along on this.You've never seen a dead man before."

  Chill shook the boy's teeth. "A dead man can't hurt anybody."

  "True; but this may be nasty business. Captain Tucker says old Anthonywas murdered."

  The boy sucked in his breath and was momentarily sorry the telephone thathad called his uncle had awakened him. Crows, cawing faintly, loomedagainst the early light of the cold sky. The grass was wet, and saturatedthe bottoms of his trousers.

  "They--they don't know who did it?"

  "That's the trouble, Joe. So many persons might have wanted to." Sinceturning into Meadow Road the doctor had been counting paces, and now hisvoice changed abruptly. "We should be near there."

  "It's right ahead, Uncle David."

  Dr. Stone said, "Lady, left," and the great, tawny dog turned obediently.They went up a weed-bordered path to a house that had once been noble,but which now lay in peeled-paint neglect.

  Captain Tucker let them in. Four men sat in a room off the hall, and theywatched the doorway in silence as Dr. Stone and the dog appeared. Joe,crowding at his uncle's heels, was conscious of a studied ease and acautious wariness in all of them. He identified them as Police CaptainTucker made them known to the blind man--Ted Lawton, marked by a certainfurtiveness; Ran Freeman, cool and self-contained; Fred Waring, silentlygrim, and Otis King, dapper and assured. Lady, restless on her leash,suddenly gave an eerie, dismal whine.

  Waring flared. "Stop that confounded dog."

  "She knows," Dr. Stone said quietly, "that there has been death here--byviolence."

  Ice ran in Joe's veins. Otis King lit a cigarette and calmly meditatedthe glowing end. The doctor said, "Lady, chair," and the dog led him to aseat. Freeman, sitting on a stool in front of a piano, dropped one armand the elbow awoke a crashing, jangling chord.

  Lawton jumped. "Did you have to do that?"

  "Better take something for your nerves," Freeman said mildly, and ran onehand soundlessly over the keys of the piano.

  Captain Tucker's voice bit into the silence. "One of you four has everyright to be nervous." He turned to Dr. Stone. "I sent for you, Doctor,because I am baffled. All four of these men came here late yesterday.Cagge says----"

  "Who's Cagge?" the doctor broke in.

  "Old Anthony Fitch's servant. He says all four quarreled violently withAnthony last night, and that the old man cackled at them, and goadedthem, and invited them to remain so that today the comedy could beresumed. About eleven o'clock he went off to bed, holding to Cagge's arm,after telling the servant to show the visitors to rooms."

  "And then?" the doctor asked.

  "Cagge says he awoke about three o'clock this morning and heard groans.He went to Anthony's room, and there he found the old man crumpled on hisbed. He had been struck on the temple by a heavy brass candlestick thatlay on the floor. Cagge says he tried to speak, and muttered one wordseveral times before he died."

  "That word was?"

  "Four. Over and over again. 'Four, four, four.' What do you make of it?"

  Slowly Doctor Stone filled a pipe, struck a match, and puffed inunhurried contemplation. "It may be, Tucker, he meant that all four wereconcerned in his murder."

  Otis King laughed. "Doctor," he said easily, "that shot misses thetarget. There isn't one of us trusts any of the other three. You couldn'tget us into a combine."

  "You must know each other," the doctor observed.

  Fred Waring jumped angrily to his feet. "Look here, Doctor----"

  Lady growled deep in her throat, and Waring slumped into a chair andwatched the dog.

  "Then," Dr. Stone said slowly, "if all of you are not concerned, oneman's hand is stained with blood."

  Freeman still continued to run his hand soundlessly across the keys.Lawton gave the doctor a quick, sidelong glance, and stared down at thefloor.

  "Which one?" King asked coolly; and now, for the first time Joe noticedthat he alone, of the four in the room, was fully dressed.

  Dr. Stone's hand touched the dog's head. "I may tell you--later. First, Ishould like to know how all of you happened to arrive here yesterday. Didthe old man invite you?"

  "No," Otis King drawled; "but I rather fancy he expected us. Did you knowhe was writing a book? It was to be one of those brutally frankthings--fire the gun and let the shots hit whom they may. Anthony droppedeach of us a letter. We were to be in the book. So, knowing Anthony, weall raced for the Grand Central and met on the same train."

  "And killed him," Dr. Stone said.

  "Some one did," King admitted blandly. "And I'm not denying that any ofthe four of us had reason to do the job."

  Fred Waring spoke bitterly. "You always did talk too much, Otis." Helapsed into silence, and presently spoke to the doctor. "If you knewAnthony Fitch--"

  "Perhaps I do," the doctor said mildly. "For several years he was mixedup in shady transactions, but managed to stay just inside the law.Slippery, and clever, and unscrupulous."

  "That was Anthony on the outside," Waring said passionately. "Inside hewas vindictive, and cold, and merciless. Those claw-like hands of hiswere the talons of a hawk. He took a pleasure in refined torture. Yearsago we were all tied up with him, and--"

  "You don't have to go into that," Ted Lawton cried warningly.

  "I'm not going to. Anyway, we broke away, and one of his schemes failed.He told us then that some day he'd pay the score. Lately he set out towrite a book. It was to be called 'Confessions of a Rascal.'"

  "I see." The doctor's face was expressionless. "Naturally, you gentlemenobjected to being included in the book."

  Waring ripped out an oath. "He had gone back fifteen years to rake openold sores. God, man, do you know what that meant? We thought we had liveddown those old mistakes. We had established ourselves. I am cashier at amanufacturing plant. King is manager of a branch brokerage house. Lawtonis in business for himself. Ran Freeman is engaged to marry LillyPanner----"

  Dr. Stone sat up straight. "The Calico Heiress?"

  Freeman's fingers still played imaginary music. "Exactly, Doctor," hesaid quietly. "The newspapers have made the family fairly well known.Fine old traditions--that sort of thing. Let this book of Anthony'sappear and my marriage to Miss Panner would be overboard."

  "And with it the Panner fortune," the doctor observed dryly.

  "That, too," Ran Freeman admitted without emotion.

  The pipe had gone out. The blind man ran the bowl absently along onesleeve. Dishes clattered in the kitchen.

  "It seems," the doctor said, "you've given yourself sufficient motive formurder, Freeman."

  "We all have sufficient motive," Freeman said frankly. "How long couldWaring remain a cashier if his past were dug out? How long would King bemanager of a brokerage house? How long would Lawton have enough creditleft to stay on in his business?"

  The room fell into silence, and Joe felt sweat on the palms of his hands.These men discussed murder as other men might have talked of the loss ofa button from a coat. Dr. Stone put the pipe away and turned hissightless eyes toward the spot from which Waring's voice had sounded.

  "You say Anthony wrote you?"

  "All of us. A devilish letter telling what was going into the bookconcerning us. Do you get that? Paying off, after all these years, theold score; ramming in the knife and turning it around. Giving us theprospect of months of anticipation and worry waiting for the book toappear. So we came up here----"

  "And threatened him?" the doctor asked.

  "Yes," Waring answered after a momentary hesitation. "He laughed at us.He said the only way to stop that book was to kill him, and invited us to
do it. He said there was a blind man in the village with the very devilof a dog and that the man who killed him would be tracked down." Waring'svoice rose. "But, for once, Anthony was wrong. He forgot----" Thepassionate flow of words stopped with startling suddenness.

  "What did he forget?" Dr. Stone asked.

  Waring said nothing.

  "Did he forget that there was such a thing as the manuscript beingstolen?"

  Captain Tucker spoke. "What good would that do? The old man could writeit again."

  "Could he?" Dr. Stone mused. "I'm not so sure. A man who has to lean on aservant's arm is a sick man--perhaps a dying man. By the way, Tucker, didyou look for the manuscript?"

  "Yes. He kept it in his bedroom."

  "And?"

  "It's gone."

  "Waring," Dr. Stone said slowly, "you checked yourself too late. SoAnthony forgot--and the manuscript _is_ stolen. That unfinished sentencecould convict you."

  "Of what?" Waring snapped.

  "Of murder. The man who stole that manuscript killed Anthony Fitch."

  Lady whimpered uneasily, and, in the hard silence, the sound was like thewail of a ghost. Joe's temples throbbed, and he was conscious of Lawtonwatching his uncle in a sort of bleak dread. Slowly he came to therealization that the blind man, sitting there in a handicap of darknesswas the dominating figure in the room.

  Softly, almost soundlessly, a man wearing an apron appeared from thekitchen. This, the boy guessed, was Cagge.

  "I've made coffee," the servant announced in a nasal monotone. "Anybodywant some?"

  Freeman's hand came away from the piano. "What's the matter with thebacon and eggs?"

  Lawton gave a grunt of distaste. "Ugh! Who could eat food now?"

  "Is Anthony's death supposed to fill any of us with sorrow?" Freemanasked blandly.

  "Fry mine on both sides," said Otis King. He stretched his legs andsmoothed his trousers. "Cagge, you were with Anthony how long?"

  "Three years."

  "Any trouble collecting your wages?"

  Joe saw the servant's face flame. "Trouble? Why, the tight-fisted, oldskin-flint----. Do you know how much he's paid me this last year? Acouple of dollars here and there when I could wring it out of him. Andnow he's dead, and where am I going to collect the four hundred dollarshe owes me?"

  "Did you say four hundred dollars, Cagge?" King asked softly.

  "I said four hundred dollars and I mean four hundred dollars." Like ashadow, almost without sound, the man was gone. The clatter of a pan camefrom the kitchen.

  Otis King tapped a cigarette against a silver case. Joe's hands had gonedry. Somewhere in the house a clock struck seven.

  "Four!" King said thoughtfully. "What would you call that, Doctor,coincidence or--something else? Many a man has killed for less than fourhundred dollars."

  Dr. Stone stood up. Holding to the harness-handle of the dog's leash hespoke to the four men who watched him intently. "Would a murderer firsttell that his victim kept muttering 'Four, four,' and then add that theslain man owed him four hundred dollars? Lady, upstairs." The shepherddog guided him across the room skillfully preventing him from bumpinginto chairs and furniture. With his feet on the first tread he spokeagain. "It wasn't Cagge, gentlemen."

  "Do you always leap at conclusions?" Otis King asked insolently.

  "I usually keep off paths other men mark for me," the doctor saidquietly.

  Joe followed his uncle up the staircase. He kept close to the dog,afraid, in this house of terror, of he knew not what. In the upper hallCaptain Tucker halted and clutched his arm.

  "Doctor," he said rapidly, "there was something I did not want to tellyou downstairs in front of them. I found something in the room."

  "Finger prints?"

  "No; the candle-stick had been wiped clean. A plain, silk handkerchief.It had evidently been used to cover the lower part of the murderer'sface. I found it in the center of the floor."

  Joe saw the familiar tense lines form around his uncle's mouth, and asoundless whistle came from the blind man's lips. "So! I hadn't expectedthat. King was right. They had reason not to trust one another."

  "What's that, Doctor?"

  "Nothing, Captain; nothing. Lead me in."

  A huddled figure was twisted grotesquely upon the bed. Joe, with a suddenspot of ice in the pit of his stomach, backed out into the hall.Presently there were leisurely footsteps on the stairs, and from insidethe room his uncle's voice said, "Lady, trail." The footsteps came on.But the boy's ears were held by the softer pad-pad-pad of the shepherddog's feet.

  Lady came out into the hall, ears back and nose close to the floor.Sniffing, she veered this way and that, but went steadily along thepassage. And then, suddenly, Joe's heart gave a choked throb, for thetawny shepherd had swung in and came to a stop before a closed door. Trueto her training, she stopped with her head below the lock; and Dr. Stone,reaching out a groping hand, touched the knob.

  "Who's room is this?" he asked.

  "Mine," came Otis King's voice from down the hall.

  The tense lines were back around the doctor's mouth. "The trail cloudsagain, Tucker," he said; but Captain Tucker, triumphant, held out thesilk handkerchief.

  "Ever see this before, King?"

  "No."

  "It was found near Anthony's body. The dog, taking a scent from it,followed a trail to your door. How you explain that?"

  "Seeing that this is the first time I've been upstairs, I can't explainit. Cagge brought my bag to this room, but I did not follow. When Anthonywent tottering off to bed I went outdoors and tramped the roads forhours."

  "What for?" Captain Tucker barked.

  "I was trying," King said, "to hatch a plan by which I might get my handson that manuscript."

  "And then you came back, and came up here----"

  "I came back, but did not come upstairs. I went out again at once."

  "Still plotting, I suppose?" Captain Tucker said in sarcasm.

  "No," King said coolly; "the second time I acted. I destroyed Anthony'sbook."

  Joe found it hard to swallow. Uncle David said the man who stole themanuscript was the man who had killed! Dr. Stone's face wasexpressionless:

  "I thought so."

  "Look here," King burst out angrily. "I told you I went out. When I cameback the house was dark. As I opened the front door I heard someone runup the stairs. I snapped on the light, and a bundle of typed papers layon the floor. I had to read only half a page to know it was Anthony'smanuscript. Would I be apt to tell voluntarily that I destroyed the bookif the fact would link me to the murder?"

  Captain Tucker seemed a bit taken back. Lawton's voice came fromdownstairs:

  "Breakfast, Otis."

  "You might have built this up," Captain Tucker said suspiciously.

  "I might," King agreed. He was once more dapper and assured.

  But when he came down stairs to the table, Joe saw that he had hardenedinto cold watchfulness. Freeman said, "Sorry you won't eat with us,Doctor." Lady, walking restlessly around the table, stopped at Freeman'splace and the man offered her a strip of bacon.

  "Quite a dog, Doctor."

  "Quite," Dr. Stone agreed; and Joe, reading something in the word, gavehis uncle a sharp, expectant glance.

  Cagge came in from the kitchen with more coffee. His hand shook as herefilled the cups, and the spout of the pot chattered against the china.

  "Cagge," Dr. Stone said suddenly, "how did you sleep last night?"

  "I didn't--much," Cagge answered in his nasal monotone. "I didn't likethe look of things."

  "Did you hear anybody go out?"

  "Yes." The servant put down the pot. "It was blasted queer. I heardsomebody go out twice, and I heard somebody come back three times."

  "That doesn't make sense," Captain Tucker said irritably.

  "Everything makes sense when you understand it," the blind man observed.Joe, catching a movement of the hand that held Lady's leash, followed hisuncle into the living-room.

  "Joe, was the
window of King's room open?"

  "Yes, sir."

  The meal was over, and the four men came back through the doorway. Dr.Stone found his chair. Ran Freeman dropped down upon the piano stool, butLawton seemed to seek a seat far from the blind man and the dog. Waringpaced the room, and Otis King was still cold and watchful.

  Freeman's fingers, once more running soundlessly over the keys, struck afaint note. As though the sound had broken a barrier, he banged a chord.The next instant, swinging about on the stool, he faced the instrumentand began to play, freely and without restraint.

  Joe found it hard to swallow. Music, in this house of death, soundedghastly, almost sacrilegious. He looked at his uncle. The calmness wasgone from Dr. Stone's face. Around the sightless eyes, around the serenemouth, strange, intense lines he knew well had suddenly formed.

  Captain Tucker had gone out into the kitchen to talk to Cagge. Freemanended with a crash of sound. Seconds passed, and nobody spoke. Thesilence seemed no more ghastly than the music.

  "Ran," Otis King drawled, dangerously quiet, "your veins must be filledwith ice."

  "Why be hypocrites?" Freeman demanded. "We're not mourning Anthony, arewe?"

  "We can be decent about it," King told him.

  Dr. Stone's voice was again a calm stream. "There was one part,Freeman--Tum, te-tum-tum, tum-tum-te-tum. Toward the end. The executionwas fast. Tum, te-tum----"

  "Oh, this." Freeman faced the key-board again and began to play. "Thiswhat you mean?"

  "Play it," said the blind man.

  Ran Freeman played. He was an artist, and he knew it. But Joe no longergave ear to the music. Something quiet--something too quiet--had been inhis uncle's voice. Something that suggested a cocked trigger about to befired. He shivered, and gripped the ends of his sweater, and held themtight.

  For the second time the music ended in a crash of chords. Freeman, swungabout on the stool.

  "Like it, Doctor?"

  "Beautifully done," the blind man said. He lay back against the cushionsof the chair, loose and relaxed. "In fact, it would have been perfectif----"

  Freeman chuckled. "Are you a music critic, too, Doctor? If what?"

  "If," Dr. Stone said quietly, "if many of those rapid notes had beenstruck by a living touch."

  Joe screamed, "Look out, Uncle David." For Freeman, no longerself-contained, had leaped from the stool and one hand had gone toward apocket.

  The blind man did not move. "Lady, get him."

  A tawny form hurtled through the air. There was the sound of a fallingbody, a scream of terror. Captain Tucker came running in from thekitchen.

  "What----"

  "It's all right, Tucker." Dr. Stone's voice was once more a calm stream."Lady will merely hold him. He's your man."

  Ten minutes later Lawton, King and Waring were gone, glad to be free andaway. Ran Freeman, white and sullen, sat handcuffed in one of the bigchairs. Captain Tucker, having telephoned for a policeman to relieve himuntil the Coroner arrived, came back to the living-room.

  "I still don't get it, Doctor," he said ruefully. "After Lady trailed toKing's room----"

  "That was a laid trail," Dr. Stone told him. "Anthony had warned themthere was a dog that could track. Would a man deliberately invitedetection by leaving a trail right to his door? However, some one of thefour had been in the room. Which one? Probably the one with most atstake. Lawton stood to suffer in a small business. Waring and King wouldhave lost their jobs. But Freeman stood to lose the Panner fortune.

  "King told us he had not been in the room, or unpacked his bag, or beento bed. So far as the bed and the bag were concerned it had to be thetruth, for it was a story too easily disproved if he had lied. By thesame reasoning, knowing that there was a dog in the neighborhood thatcould follow scent, he would not have made a trail to his own room if hehad committed murder. Therefore, when the trail led to a room in whichthere was a rumpled bed and a bag partly unpacked, one fact was obvious.King was not the man.

  "He said he had gone out twice. But Cagge said somebody had come in threetimes. Did you notice the open window in King's room? The ceilings downhere are low--a blind man can feel these things. The second floorwouldn't be far from the ground. Whoever killed Anthony knew King was outof the house. Therefore, after the crime, he purposely left the silkhandkerchief to give the dog a scent. Then, going to King's room, hemussed the bed, dragged clothing out of the bag, and dropped out thewindow. No doubt you'll find deep footprints where he dropped. Going intothe room and out the window, he probably reasoned, brought the trail toKing's room and ended it there.

  "He was the third man Cagge heard come in. He must have brought Anthony'smanuscript back into the house with him intending to dispose of it later.But King must have come back almost on his heels. Not wanting to be foundwith the manuscript he dropped it and fled. Perhaps he reasoned thatKing, finding it, would destroy it, anyway. If I had any doubts at allthey were gone when we came downstairs. The four men were eating. Lady,circling the table, stopped at Freeman's chair. She had found the scentagain. I don't think Freeman meant to kill. His idea was to steal thebook. But Anthony awoke. Am I right?"

  Freeman had recovered some of his nerve. "Do you expect any jury toconvict on the testimony of a dog?" he demanded.

  "Tucker," said Dr. Stone, "will you look at his right hand?"

  Joe shrank away from the prisoner's violent struggle to free himself ofthe handcuffs. Captain Tucker, holding Freeman in the chair, turned astartled face toward the blind man.

  "Why, Doctor?----"

  "Exactly, Tucker. I had the testimony of Lady, but I needed greaterproof. Freeman gave it to me when he played the piano. All through themusic something kept recurring. Perhaps, were I not blind, did I not haveto depend so much on hearing, I would not have noticed it. A hesitationon certain notes, an almost imperceptible break in the rhythm, a faintclick upon the ivory of the keys that could only be made by somethingforeign, something that was not living flesh. Freeman has an artificialfinger."

  Freeman had slumped in the chair. Captain Tucker straightened up.

  "Doctor," he said curiously, "your brain travels too fast for me.... Muchtoo fast. Just what does that prove?"

  "Everything," Dr. Stone said quietly. "Modern surgery does miracles thesedays. Freeman has an artificial finger that can be taken off. Do youremember Cagge's story? Old Anthony kept muttering 'Four, four.' That'swhat he had seen. Four! Four fingers on the hand of his murderer."