“I believe it was some business transaction you had with father?” she asked, and this time there was just a little note of panic in her voice. I caught it and I’m satisfied Herman caught it. Sitting there with her waist low in front, her dress short all around, her lips rouged and mouth raspberried, she was deadly afraid of something.
Don Herman fairly dripped oily suavity.
“Perhaps you won’t mind if I ask you a few questions before I break into the business, Miss Chadwick… I believe you knew your father’s habits very well. Did you ever know of any particular habit of his in giving promissory notes?”
She nodded, plainly puzzled.
“Why yes. I think lots of persons knew of that habit of his. He had a big book of printed forms, and he always filled out the notes from that book. Even when he was borrowing from a bank he’d never use one of the bank forms, but he’d take his book up there and make out the note. Father was very peculiar in many ways and he’d read of persons who had note forms that could be manipulated around so the amounts could be increased, and then discounted. But more than any other reason for it, he liked to be different.”
Herman beamed.
“Exactly, exactly, and now, if you will pardon me for a moment.”
He stepped over to the corner, and I watched him like a hawk. I notice that as he got to the corner he stooped down as though to pick up something from the floor, then he threw a picture to one side and disclosed the dials of a heavy safe. Lord there was enough nickel on there to dazzle the eyes. It seemed to be a regular bank vault.
A minute later and he had flung the door to one side, and reached within. He took out some papers and came over to the girl.
“Do you recognize this?”
She looked at the paper, then stifled an exclamation.
“Why, yes. It’s a note, one of father’s notes, payable to you, and it’s for ten thousand dollars.”
Don G. Herman held his eyes wide open by an effort, but his spongy lips came together as his thick tongue darted out with a licking motion, and wetted them.
“Would you say that was his handwriting?”
She was a little thoroughbred, and she nodded her head. “That’s his handwriting all right.”
Herman came to the desk and settled back in his chair. Satisfaction seeming to ooze out all over him. I got a good close look at that note.
“Now have you any idea of the consideration for that note?”
I could see he was getting ready to spring something, and the girl must have known it, too. Her face was white, but she wasn’t going to let any damn crook get anything on her or see that she was worried. She opened one of those square vanity boxes and started in sticking some more raspberry lipstick on her mouth.
“Why, no,” she said, watching her reflection in the mirror.
“It was political graft,” said Herman.
She took her little finger and smeared the red around into a cupid’s bow.
“I don’t believe it, but it doesn’t make any difference. That note’ll be paid from the estate. I’d rather mother didn’t know. I tell you what I’ll do. If you’ll hold that note and don’t present it in court when the estate’s being closed, I’ll give you my note for eleven thousand and take up my note as soon as the estate’s closed.”
“You don’t want it to appear that your father had any business dealings with me?” Herman asked in his oily tones.
She laid down the mirror, looked at him straight, and handed it to him straight.
“My father lived a square life. He was honest and square. If you got a note from him it was probably blackmail. You know it, and I know it, and there’s no use fooling around pretending to be polite. The world would think my father was mixed up in some sort of graft if you ever presented that note in the estate. It would kill my mother. You know all that, and that’s why you got me to come here. Now what is it you want?”
With that she snapped her vanity box shut, recrossed her legs so the other knee got the glare of the electric light, and smiled as sweet as a little angel.
I could see that she had taken Herman a little off his feet, but he came back quick.
“You are right, Miss Chadwick. I want something. I’m coming to it in a minute. Perhaps I might as well be frank with you. That note did represent a sort of blackmail, a little business arrangement between your father and myself. He always fought me in politics, you know, and used to denounce me in speeches. The fact that I hold his genuine note would come as a blow to some of your highbrow society friends, wouldn’t it?”
She didn’t answer the question directly because it was apparent. From what Herman had said, I could get the picture. — A prominent man, standing for all that was straight in politics and civic government, part of the inner circle of exclusive society, he dies and his estate has a genuine note presented by a political crook and blackmailer, a schemer of schemes, a collector of graft… It was all too plain. What was bothering me was the point the girl was evidently thinking over, for she shot it at him in her next question.
“What I can’t understand was why father ever gave you the note. Why didn’t he pay you in cash if he owed you any money, or if he wanted to pay you for anything?”
He walked over toward her with his thick, spongy lips twisted in a smile, his bald head glistening in the electric light, and let her have it, straight from the shoulder.
“Because, Miss Chadwick, this note was only one of a series. There were nine others all for the same amounts, due at varying dates, and they represented a grand total of one hundred thousand dollars!”
That was that.
She got slowly to her feet at that shot, her hand creeping up to her throat. Short skirts, low waist and all, she looked more than ever like a kid.
“Pardon,” he said. “I think I hear the telephone in the hallway,” and with that he glided out of the room.
Why he left I couldn’t figure, unless he was going into another room from which he had a secret peekhole into his little office. Probably he wanted to spy on the kid when she thought herself alone.
She stood there for a second after he left, then she slowly crumpled in the chair. After a little bit she raised her eyes and spoke as naturally as though she were speaking to me: “Father, what’s it all about, and what do you want me to do? It’ll kill mother, and ruin your good name, blot your memory. Also it’ll take nearly all of the estate. Help me, dad, and I’ll try to see it through.”
There were tears glistening in each eye, but she didn’t let her mouth quiver any. There came the sound of steps, and Herman was back. He looked at her narrowly, but she’d blinked the tears back, and was fixing up a corner of her mouth with that little finger again.
“I always get my mouth lopsided,” she grinned up at him over the top of the mirror.
She was so cool she made a cucumber look like a tamale.
He was puzzled.
“As I said. There’s something I want.”
She stuck a dab of powder on her cheek.
“Yeah?”
He licked his thick lips.
“Yes. Something I want you to do for me.”
“Well, shoot. Spill it. Get it off your chest and see if you breathe any lighter.”
He hesitated, caught his breath, started to speak, drummed on the desk, then got up and bowed.
“Not tonight. Some time soon I will call you again. I’ll think it over in the meantime. Now if you’ll leave me, I’ve got another appointment in a few minutes.”
She got up and let her eyes wander around under her hat brim.