“But, don’t you see, he would hardly take you into his confidence in such a matter. You just don’t know.”
The Avenger seemed not to have heard.
“All Farquar knew was that the three men had something that would incriminate him. We got the cigar case from Salloway and found a gold crown in it. How would that incriminate anyone?”
“And who killed Salloway,” interrupted Smitty, “and why? Where does that fit in?”
Josh Newton’s quick dark eyes went to the giant’s face.
“It could mean that Beall and Cleeves thought it better to split the demanded million in blackmail two ways instead of three. So one or both of them sent those gangsters there to kill Salloway and get his clue.”
Harriet’s eyes flashed; but at a sharp glance from Nellie she kept silent.
Again Dick Benson seemed to pay no attention. He went on: “The dead man in the alley—the one Miss Beall saw—has been identified as a private detective. There is no proof of who hired him or whom he was working for when he met his death. But on his customers’ list is the name Iando Cleeves; so it’s logical to suppose he was working for Cleeves when he was murdered. Where would that fit in?”
“Maybe it was that night when the clues against Farquar were trumped up,” said Nellie. “Maybe the dead man in the alley had something to do with that.”
“It’s possible,” Dick agreed. “The alley isn’t far from the house in which Smathers was killed. And that brings up the envelope.”
He stood still, and his almost colorless eyes went to Harriet’s face.
“Nothing but blank paper was in the envelope. It seems to me that tells a positive story. The envelope existed only as an excuse for Smathers to go to Ismail’s house. He was sent there on a fake errand only to be murdered. The type of envelope says Beall sent him. But why did any one want to kill Farquar’s man?”
Harriet was fighting against tears. And she blurted something she hadn’t admitted before.
“My father did not send him there! He had nothing to do with it! The clerk left from Farquar’s office that night. I know because I followed him from there—”
She stopped, and looked as if she were sorry she had said so much; then, after having said that much, she went on.
“I’d felt for weeks that Dad was in trouble. I wanted to help him. I got an idea that the man who was bothering him was Markham Farquar, because Dad always seemed terribly upset after seeing him. So, on my own, to try to help, I began watching Farquar. Nothing happened till that night—”
She drew a deep breath and terror was reflected in her eyes.
“I was watching Farquar’s office building from across the street. I saw Smathers come out. I knew him by sight, by then. I didn’t know whether to follow him or wait for Farquar. But finally I followed Smathers.
“I’m not a good trailer, I guess. I saw him go into that seemingly vacant house—and then I didn’t see anything more. If he was killed in there, his killer must have brought him out, because you say the man found in the freight yard was Smathers. But I didn’t see them leave.”
The Avenger’s eyes were pale diamond drills on her face. How much of her final frankness was due to their hypnotic power and how much to growing trust in him, no one could say.
“I realized finally that I’d been given the slip,” she went on. “I started to go to my car, parked several blocks away. I saw another car stop, not far down the street, and I recognized it as a sedan I’d seen around the corner from the Ismail house. I got behind a trash basket and watched. And I saw a trailing car. Both had come from the direction of the Holland Tunnel.
“A man got out of the first one and went into this alley. I couldn’t see his face, he seemed to be just a moving shadow. A man got out of the trailing car, and went into the alley too. In a minute one came back out. The other—stayed in. I went in to investigate, and found the second man
The Avenger seemed not to have heard.
“All Farquar knew was that the three men had something that would incriminate him. We got the cigar case from Salloway and found a gold crown in it. How would that incriminate anyone?”
“And who killed Salloway,” interrupted Smitty, “and why? Where does that fit in?”
Josh Newton’s quick dark eyes went to the giant’s face.
“It could mean that Beall and Cleeves thought it better to split the demanded million in blackmail two ways instead of three. So one or both of them sent those gangsters there to kill Salloway and get his clue.”
Harriet’s eyes flashed; but at a sharp glance from Nellie she kept silent.
Again Dick Benson seemed to pay no attention. He went on: “The dead man in the alley—the one Miss Beall saw—has been identified as a private detective. There is no proof of who hired him or whom he was working for when he met his death. But on his customers’ list is the name Iando Cleeves; so it’s logical to suppose he was working for Cleeves when he was murdered. Where would that fit in?”
“Maybe it was that night when the clues against Farquar were trumped up,” said Nellie. “Maybe the dead man in the alley had something to do with that.”
“It’s possible,” Dick agreed. “The alley isn’t far from the house in which Smathers was killed. And that brings up the envelope.”
He stood still, and his almost colorless eyes went to Harriet’s face.
“Nothing but blank paper was in the envelope. It seems to me that tells a positive story. The envelope existed only as an excuse for Smathers to go to Ismail’s house. He was sent there on a fake errand only to be murdered. The type of envelope says Beall sent him. But why did any one want to kill Farquar’s man?”
Harriet was fighting against tears. And she blurted something she hadn’t admitted before.
“My father did not send him there! He had nothing to do with it! The clerk left from Farquar’s office that night. I know because I followed him from there—”
She stopped, and looked as if she were sorry she had said so much; then, after having said that much, she went on.
“I’d felt for weeks that Dad was in trouble. I wanted to help him. I got an idea that the man who was bothering him was Markham Farquar, because Dad always seemed terribly upset after seeing him. So, on my own, to try to help, I began watching Farquar. Nothing happened till that night—”
She drew a deep breath and terror was reflected in her eyes.
“I was watching Farquar’s office building from across the street. I saw Smathers come out. I knew him by sight, by then. I didn’t know whether to follow him or wait for Farquar. But finally I followed Smathers.
“I’m not a good trailer, I guess. I saw him go into that seemingly vacant house—and then I didn’t see anything more. If he was killed in there, his killer must have brought him out, because you say the man found in the freight yard was Smathers. But I didn’t see them leave.”
The Avenger’s eyes were pale diamond drills on her face. How much of her final frankness was due to their hypnotic power and how much to growing trust in him, no one could say.
“I realized finally that I’d been given the slip,” she went on. “I started to go to my car, parked several blocks away. I saw another car stop, not far down the street, and I recognized it as a sedan I’d seen around the corner from the Ismail house. I got behind a trash basket and watched. And I saw a trailing car. Both had come from the direction of the Holland Tunnel.
“A man got out of the first one and went into this alley. I couldn’t see his face, he seemed to be just a moving shadow. A man got out of the trailing car, and went into the alley too. In a minute one came back out. The other—stayed in. I went in to investigate, and found the second man
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