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Authors: Hulbert Footner

Tags: #Murder

ALM06 Who Killed the Husband? (24 page)

BOOK: ALM06 Who Killed the Husband?
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"Where was the meeting?" asked Lee.

"At Hanley's café, a small place on Lexington Avenue, opposite one of the entrances to the Eighty-sixth Street subway station; the time 12:15. We met, had a drink together, she gave me the money and we talked for fifteen minutes."

Lee said: "It was on Tuesday that Jocker Stacey said you handed him fifteen hundred dollars."

"Don't worry about that," said Al. "I gave Charlotte five hundred and I have most of the rest on me. What I have spent I can account for."

"Go on with your story," said Lee.

"Fanny left me at 12:30 and I called up the flat to see if the coast was clear; no answer. I waited ten minutes, called up again and was then satisfied that the police were in the place. So I called you up, remember? 12:45 Tuesday?"

"Right, I can testify to that," said Lee.

"I then walked over to Second Avenue," Al continued. "I was sore on account of our hide-out being discovered. Made me feel naked, walking around the streets with a general alarm out for me; I imagined everybody was staring at me. In a secondhand store on Second Avenue, I bought a flat wicker basket and a grocer's apron; I went into the cellar of an unoccupied house and hid my hat and overcoat. I put on the apron and dirtied it, and roughed up my hair. Out in the street I felt easier then. Nobody looks at a grocer's boy. I bought some vegetables from a pushcart and carried them in my basket. I walked down to the service entrance of Miss Harley's apartment on Seventy-fourth Street. She was away but I persuaded the cook, Rose Craigin, to take me in."

"I have heard about that part," said Lee dryly. "What time did you arrive there?"

"One-thirty," said Al. "And remained there until about three-thirty. Cook and I then walked over to the east side of the park where we ran into Charlotte and gave her the money. That's how I spent Tuesday. You and Fanny Parran, the waiter at Hanley's café, and the secondhand dealer all ought to be able to bear me out. I may not be able to find the pushcart man again, but Mrs. Craigin will testify for me and the other maid at Miss Harley's."

"Excellent!" said Lee. "I can also testify that two days before Hawkins' murder you told me a story that corroborated his at every point. You therefore had no motive for putting him out of the way...When this comes out it will show me up in a bad light," Lee went on ruefully, "assisting a fugitive from justice and all that."

"I'm sorry," said Al.

"Well, I expect I can live it down. You need have no further fear of Jocker Stacey's story. We can face him down in court...Now about the other charge. Since the story of Charlotte and the baby has been published, my lady Agnes is in a fine rage against you."

"I never gave Agnes a thought," said Al, "but of course she would be."

"She is determined to send you to the chair for the murder of her husband. The question is, can she?" Lee went on to tell Al of Agnes' latest story of Jules Gartrey's death.

"Like Jocker Stacey's story," said Al, "it's part true and part false. When Agnes says she saw me standing over Gartrey's body with the smoking revolver in my hand, that is a pure fabrication. Why, Agnes got out in the foyer 
before I did
."

"Hey?" said the surprised Lee, "you didn't tell me that before."

"Well, I didn't want to be put in the position of charging Agnes with the murder. Look what a light that would show me up in!"

"But if it's a question of you or her?"

"I am not certain that she killed him."

"Tell me what happened and let me judge."

Al said: "There I was sitting in the boudoir while Agnes changed her clothes. There are three doors in that room; all of them were closed. Agnes and her maid were supposed to be in the dressing room adjoining. Since the door from boudoir into corridor was closed, I had no warning of Gartrey's coming; I couldn't hear the elevator door; evidently Agnes did. I heard a rush of feet through the corridor, then the shot."

Lee smiled. "That's pretty strong evidence."

Al shook his head glumly. "No. At first I thought so, but the shot followed too quick. 
Agnes did not have time to get out into the foyer
."

"Hm!" said Lee. "In that case there is further work to be done on the case...Think back. 
After
 the shot did you hear the sound of a door opening or closing?"

"I couldn't tell you, Pop. I was too excited then. I thought Agnes had shot herself. I hesitated. I didn't know what to do. I ran out into the corridor and there she lay in a heap on the floor. Her body was partly resting against the door into the foyer. I felt utterly sick. But when I turned her over, I saw that she had no wound on her and that there was no gun there. She had only fainted. I then opened the door and saw Gartrey lying dead in the foyer..."

"Wait a minute," said Lee. "Could Agnes have shot Gartrey and then have got back into the corridor?"

"It is possible. But I am not sure of it. There was scarcely enough time."

"Go on."

"When I saw Gartrey, my one thought was to get out of the place. I stepped over Agnes and beat it. You know the rest."

Lee, stroking his chin, thought it over. "This killing is still unexplained," he said slowly, "but, anyhow, I believe we can get you off."

"How?"

"It couldn't have been you who ran out and shot Jules Gartrey because your hands were bare. And there were no fingerprints on the gun."

"Sure!" cried Al joyfully. "My gloves were in the pocket of my topcoat and my topcoat was hanging in the closet!" He sprang up. "Charlotte! Charlotte!"

She came running in, her pretty face all screwed up with anxiety. "Oh, what's the matter?"

"Darling!" cried Al, spreading his arms wide. "Pop has found a way to clear me! I knew he would! I knew he would!"

They embraced as if it was the first time they had come together. It lasted so long that the bystander became embarrassed. Afterward, Lee had to be embraced. Al popped another bottle of champagne.

Lester was brought in and they all lined up in chairs before the cheery fire.

"What's the next move?" asked Al. "I promised, you know, to give myself up to the police as soon as I had you on my side."

"I believe it will be safe for you to give yourself up now," said Lee, "but wait for a couple of days; I want to do a little work on the case: I want to prepare the way for you. I'll come and get you when I'm ready."

"Okay," said Al, "but don't leave us in suspense in this dark hole. I am longing to see the sun again! You can write me and enclose it in an outside envelope addressed to Matt Rennert, Greenwich. The Rennerts call me Johnny Jones. It's just a fiction because they know who I am."

"I'll write to you," said Lee. "At what hour is mail delivered here?"

"Twice a day by R.F.D. at the gate; nine in the morning and four in the afternoon."

"How can I get out of here unseen?" Lee asked. "I don't think it would be prudent to let Mrs. Craigin and the Rennerts know that you have had a visitor today."

"I'll unbar the farm gate for you," said Al. "There are no laborers about on Sunday. You can reach the highway through the fields."

"Don't go yet, Pop," Charlotte softly pleaded. "It is so good for Al to have somebody to talk to beside a woman and a baby."

"Have I complained?" said Al.

"No, darling. But I can see how cooped up you feel."

"I'm in no hurry to go," said Lee. "I am enjoying myself."

In due course Lee regained the highway unseen and walked along. Hearing the approach of a car, he looked over his shoulder and was somewhat disturbed to see the car behind him stop at that moment. It backed around in the road and returned the way it had come. This had a queer look. The car was a black sedan; it was too far away for Lee to read the license number or to distinguish the features of the man who was driving it.

A minute or two later his own car came along and picked him up. "There was a suspicious-looking car..." Lee began.

"Sure; did it pass you?" asked his chauffeur.

"No. Came up behind and when it saw me, turned and went back. That's what made me suspicious."

"Been hanging around all afternoon," said the chauffeur. "I was going to tell you. Passed me just now doing about seventy. Driver holding his head down so I couldn't get a good look at him. Never did get a good look at him. Car had an Illinois license plate. Looked like a fake plate to me."

"May be nothing in it," said Lee, "but anyhow, go back to Greenwich and let me out at that little stationery store."

Lee was recognized in the store. "What did you think of Mount Pisgah?" asked the man behind the counter.

"I couldn't get into the place," said Lee, "I'll have to get a permit and come again."

Lee bought a couple of sheets of paper and two envelopes. He wrote:

Dear Johnny:

My chauffeur tells me there has been a black sedan hanging about Mount Pisgah all afternoon. I can't quite figure it out. It may be an enterprising newspaper reporter or a New York detective; there is no great danger to be feared from either of these now. On the other hand, never forget that you have powerful and unscrupulous enemies. Watch yourself.

Pop.

Lee put this in two envelopes, addressed the outer to Matthew Rennert, and bought a stamp. He dropped his letter in the Greenwich post office and gave his chauffeur the word to return to New York.

Chapter 20

When Lee entered his office next morning, both typewriters were clacking. Fanny and Judy greeted him politely and went on with their work. The girls were still bearing themselves coolly toward their employer, and Lee, however exasperated he had felt, had not been able to get back at them, for while they sent him to Coventry they took care to do their work with extra care and thoroughness. In an unacknowledged war of this sort the male is at a disadvantage. Today, however, the end of the war was in sight, and Lee could afford to smile. To plague the girls, he affected to be in great spirits.

"Good morning, girls! Lovely day, isn't it? I felt so good I had to walk down."

Fanny and Judy smiled politely; said nothing. Lee saw them exchange a questioning glance; what cause has Pop to feel so gay? He went into his private office smiling inwardly.

When he had skimmed over his mail he called Fanny in. She brought her notebook. "No dictation this morning," he said. "I want you to do a little field work."

"Field work?" said Fanny, running up her eyebrows. "I didn't know you had a case on hand."

Lee said: "I want you to go up to a little café on Lexington Avenue in the neighborhood of 86th Street. The name is Hanley's."

Fanny's face didn't give anything away; she merely became wary. "What am I to do there?" she asked.

"Find, if you can, a waiter who was on duty at noon on Tuesday last."

"Do you know his name?"

"No. Do you?"

"I don't understand you," said Fanny coldly.

Lee went on with an innocent air. "It is important, you see, as a means of breaking down Jocker Stacey's testimony. I want to find out if there is a man at Hanley's--if more than one man, so much the better--who can go on the stand and swear that you and Al Yohe were served there at noon last Tuesday."

Fanny broke down then. "Who told you that Al and I were together last Tuesday?" she demanded. "Al did."

"When did you see Al?"

"Had lunch with him yesterday."

Fanny stared in confusion.

"You went to Hanley's to take Al some money," Lee went on, "and I expect it will cause me a peck of trouble when it comes out in court."

Fanny saw that she had been fooled and frowned; then she perceived that the war was over and smiled. "Pop, you're a devil!" she said. "I'd pull your hair--if you had any!"

Lee had his laugh out then. In the front office Judy looked up, startled by the sound.

"What does it mean?" asked Fanny.

"It means that from now on this office is working night and day on the case of Alastair Yohe until he is cleared!"

Fanny's pretty face flushed red with pleasure. "Oh, Pop!" she cried, clasping her hands together. Notebook and pencil dropped to the floor. "Oh, Pop, I'm so glad! Oh, I could hug you for that!"

"Who's stopping you?" said Lee.

"Judy must know about this!" cried Fanny. "Judy! Judy! come in here!"

Judy ran in. She was the more emotional. When she was told, tears sprang in her big brown eyes. "Oh, Pop! Oh, Pop!"

"For God's sake, don't turn on the waterworks!" cried Lee. "Sit down! Smoke up! Let's have a little peace and comfort in the shop again!"

"This is like old times!" said Fanny, happily blowing smoke. "We can be happy in our work again!"

"It wasn't me spoiled it," said Lee. "By rights, I ought to fire both of you for the way you've been acting the past two weeks."

"But you were so stubborn, Pop!"

"I was not stubborn. I am a most reasonable man. I was only prudent."

BOOK: ALM06 Who Killed the Husband?
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