Read ALM06 Who Killed the Husband? Online

Authors: Hulbert Footner

Tags: #Murder

ALM06 Who Killed the Husband? (7 page)

BOOK: ALM06 Who Killed the Husband?
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"My husband is innocent."

"How do you know?"

"He told me so."

Lee smiled.

Mrs. Yohe blushed, but spoke up with spirit. "I'm not just a fond and foolish little wife. I have no illusions about my husband. He has told me many painful truths, heartbreaking truths, but he has never lied to me.

"But in this case wouldn't he be justified in lying?"

"Certainly. But I know him so well that if he was lying for the first time some change in his voice, in his expression would warn me of it."

"If he's innocent, for heaven's sake why doesn't he face the music?"

"Ah, he's a strange, wild creature, Mr. Mappin. To be confined would kill him."

Lee said nothing. His expression was politely incredulous.

"He has other reasons," she went on. "I don't know what they are, but they seem sufficient to him. I'm not claiming that he is very wise, Mr. Mappin. Like all manly men, he's as stubborn as the devil. Oh, if you would only consent to see him; I am certain he would do whatever you advised. Look, he thinks you have one of the keenest minds of the day. If he were not innocent, would he be so anxious to put himself in your hands?"

Lee smiled. "Very subtle flattery, Mrs. Yohe."

"I'm not trying to flatter you. Oh, if I could only find the right word!"

"Why doesn't he write his story for me? I will guarantee that no eye shall see it but mine."

"He says he can't express himself properly in writing; that his brain seems to freeze when he takes a pen in hand."

"He could call me up on the telephone. If he uses a dial phone the call could not be traced back."

She still shook her head. "There is too much at stake. He must be able to see your face when he tells you. He wants you to question him."

"Here's a proposition," said Lee. "If I consent to hear his story, will he agree to give himself up if I so advise?"

"He would give himself up, I am sure, but he would never bind himself in advance to do so. He doesn't know you, you see, and after all, it is his life which is at stake. He is convinced that it would be fatal if he fell into the hands of the police now. He'd be railroaded, he says."

"That's as far as I can go," said Lee.

Mrs. Yohe squeezed her hands together. "Oh, if he does not succeed, I know what will happen! He will leave Lester and me and start a new life far away. We will never see him again!"

"Abandon you!" exclaimed Lee.

"I don't mean leave us to starve. There is plenty of money. But a man always has that way out, hasn't he? Just to go away."

"The search for him will never be abandoned!" asserted Lee.

"The police aren't very clever, Mr. Mappin. Certainly not clever enough to take my husband unless he allows himself to be taken."

Lee rose and paced back and forth. "Mrs. Yohe, what you have told me about your husband doesn't make me feel any kinder toward him. Even before this happened, he appears to have treated you abominably; A secret marriage! I take it you are forced to live under an assumed name."

She nodded miserably.

"It has cut you off from your own people?" Another nod--but with firm lips.

"And, of course, you have to do your own housework besides caring for the baby. You couldn't trust a servant."

"I went into it with my eyes open, Mr. Mappin. He did not deceive me. He explained the kind of life he led and that the secrecy would be necessary until he had made a sufficient stake for us to get a fair start away from New York." Her chin went higher. "And I'm not sorry for what I did, either! Even if the worst should happen, even if he leaves us, I shall not be sorry for what I did. And Lester won't reproach me for it, either, when I tell him about it after he grows up."

Lee paced up and down snorting with indignation. "But, my dear child, this is mere infatuation!"

"Infatuation!" she repeated with a scornful shrug. "That's only a word! I don't care what you call it. It is something that comes to only a few women. It has lifted me out of myself! It makes me feel rich!"

Lee could no longer trust himself to speak.

She partly broke down. "Oh, I have said the wrong things!" she mourned. "I wanted to make you understand what a dear he is! how tender and honest and goodhearted! And I have only made you angry! If you could see him and Lester romping together, it would melt your heart! A man who can laugh with a baby can't be a bad man!"

This unhappy scene could have but one conclusion. She finally picked up the baby and started putting on his jacket with trembling fingers while the tears rolled down her soft cheeks. Lee felt like a louse; no good for him to tell himself that he was taking the only possible course. Word of this will be conveyed to Fanny and Judy, he thought, and my life at the office will be a purgatory. He rang for Jermyn. When Jermyn saw the wet cheeks, his eyes reproached his master too. Hell! thought Lee, was ever a well-meaning man put in such a box! As Jermyn showed Mrs. Yohe out, Lee thought: She will go blindly through the streets. If I sent Jermyn after her, she would lead him straight to Yohe. She's undoubtedly hiding him herself. But, damn it all! I can't do it!

Chapter 6

During the rest of Sunday the relations between Jermyn and his master were a little strained. Lee did not go out and wore his dressing gown all day. It was his custom to sup alone in his apartment on Sunday evenings. Lee was a sociable soul but, as he said, in order to fully appreciate good society, it is necessary for a man to spend certain hours in solitude. Late in the afternoon Jermyn came to him.

"Mr. Mappin, I dislike to ask an extra favor of you, you are always so considerate, but I have had a telephone message from my friend Abbott in Brooklyn--he's the one who came to this country with me--saying that he was ill and out of a place and asking me to come over and see him."

Lee was relieved at the thought of being spared the sight of Jermyn's long face for an hour or two. "Go by all means," he said.

"I'll serve your supper first, sir. Unless you would prefer to eat at the Club."

"I'll eat at home," said Lee. "Not in the humor for company."

"Very good, sir."

When Lee sat down to his supper he said: "You needn't wait, Jermyn. Get yourself a bite to eat and be off with you."

"Very well, sir, I will; and thank you, sir. Just leave everything until I get home, Mr. Mappin."

"On your way out," said Lee, "instruct the men in the hall downstairs that if anybody comes to see me while you're gone, the name is to be telephoned up to me."

"Very well, sir."

When he had finished eating, Lee returned to the fire, prepared to spend a comfortable evening with a book and a pipe. Lee had a secret fondness for the briar, but as he fancied it went very ill with his tubby little figure, he smoked it only when alone. "I am no Sherlock Holmes, alas!" he would say. He was reading 
The Case of Madeleine Smith
 in connection with his work. The pipe drew well, the case was well presented, but the feeling of comfort would not come. The sad, pale, tear-stained face of Mrs. Yohe rose between his eyes and the printed page. Half a dozen times he jumped up swearing, took a turn up and down the room, and sat down again with a determined effort to concentrate on the book.

The doorbell rang; the button was pushed three times, long, short, long. This was a private signal known only to Jermyn, to Fanny and Judy and one or two of Lee's closest friends. He heard it with pleasure and jumped up; anything would be preferable to his own nagging thoughts. Trundling down the hall without a thought of danger, he opened the door.

It was not a friend. Lee saw a tallish, well-made young man, very well dressed, smiling like a book agent. He had glasses on and wore a neat, black beard like a young doctor trying to make himself look more impressive, or a Bohemian from south of Fourteenth Street. His bared teeth gleamed with extraordinary whiteness against the black beard. He had blue eyes.

"Mr. Mappin," he began ingratiatingly.

Lee, angered by his effrontery, began to say: "I'm sorry, sir, I cannot..."

The elevator had gone down again and the little hall was empty. The young man suddenly lunged with his shoulder against the door, thrusting it open and sending Lee staggering back. He coolly entered, closing the door behind him, keeping his extraordinarily bright eyes fixed on Lee's face and smiling in that maddening fashion. In addition to the Yale lock, there was an ordinary lock in the door and the key was sticking in it. He turned the key and, pulling it out, dropped it in his pocket. He kept saying:

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Mappin! Honestly I hate to do this!"

He seemed to be struggling to keep from laughing outright, and that made Lee feel wild with anger. Suddenly he thought of the house phone on the wall. The young man thought of it at the same instant and reached it first. He already had a pair of cutters in his hand and he snipped the wires leading to the instrument.

"I'm so sorry!" he said, biting his lip.

A cold fear struck through Lee; the fellow was so much bigger than he, and twenty years younger. He was undoubtedly armed. Lee's gun was in the drawer of the chiffonier in his dressing room at the other end of the apartment.

"I must ask you to enter the pantry ahead of me," the young man said.

Lee was forced to obey. There was a miniature telephone switchboard in the pantry. Here incoming calls were received and could be plugged to the several extensions in different rooms. The young man snipped the main wires leading to the board.

"When I go out," he said deprecatingly, "I'll phone for a trouble shooter so service can be restored tonight."

Lee felt absolutely helpless. The building was of steel and concrete construction and it would do him no good to shout for help or pound on the floor. "What do you want of me?" he demanded. "I keep no money about me."

"I don't want your money," answered the young man, smiling afresh. "Lead the way to your dressing room, please."

They proceeded through the gallery. Lee's feeling that he had been betrayed by one whom he trusted was bitterer than fear. "How did you get up here?" he asked.

The young man read his mind. "Jermyn didn't sell you out," he said. "I decoyed him over to Brooklyn with a fake telephone call. I guessed that the boys downstairs would be instructed not to let anybody up without telephoning, so I didn't ask for you; I just walked into the elevator as if I belonged in the house. `Top floor,' I said, and the operator was bluffed."

They entered Lee's little dressing room and the young man went direct to the chiffonier and pulled out the drawer where Lee's gun lay. Certainly if Jermyn had not betrayed his master, somebody had. Lee thought of the girls and his breast was curdled with bitterness. However, the first shock had passed and his wits were working again. The drawer was filled with socks and handkerchiefs and the young man had to dig for the gun. Lee was standing behind him at the moment and the dressing table was behind Lee. A crazy plan began to work in his brain. He felt behind him for a nail file and a tiny sewing case that lay on the table. He found the objects, and transferred them to the pocket of his dressing gown.

The young man dropped the gun in his pocket and turned around. "Shall we go into the living room and sit down comfortably?" he suggested. He had the pleasantest voice in the world, damn him! thought Lee.

Lee with an effort changed his face. "Well, I suppose I might as well make the best of it," he said.

"Sure!" cried the other. "I'm really not a bad sort of fellow. I mean you no harm. I want you to be my friend."

Lee had guessed who it was. Searching for a way of distracting the fellow's attention from himself, he said: "Will you have something to eat? My supper is still on the table."

"Thanks, I don't mind if I do," was the instant reply. "I've been so busy this afternoon I couldn't stop for supper."

"Preparing for this visit?" suggested Lee.

"Yes, sir. It took some close planning."

They proceeded to the dining room and sat down. There was plenty of food left on the table; a cold pâté, a salad, a Camembert cheese spreading on its plate. The young man's blue eyes glistened at the sight. Pulling the dishes toward him, he set to with a hearty appetite.

"You and I have similar tastes," he said.

Lee was listening intently. Faint sounds reached his ears which suggested that Tod Larkey on the floor below was having a party. One of Lee's living-room windows was open and there must have been an open window somewhere in the Larkey apartment also. It was the party which had given Lee his idea. He had only a nodding acquaintance with Larkey, but it would serve.

While the young man ate he kept a bright eye on Lee, but he could not look at him steadily because of having to attend to his food. Lee was trying to think of a way to escape from his eye for half a minute at a time. Half a minute would be enough.

Lee rose. "I'll fetch you a bottle of cold beer from the refrigerator."

"Sit down, Mr. Mappin!" said the young man quickly. "I can't risk having you pop out through the service entrance, you know. You sit here and I'll fetch the beer. Will you join me in a bottle?"

BOOK: ALM06 Who Killed the Husband?
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