It is a mere waste of words to tell you that the women of the town, young, not so young, middle-aged, and plain old, fell for Flash. I’ll dismiss the subject by saying that they toppled over like so man dominoes in a row. No blame to them. These birds with a past are certainly the honey-coated flypaper.
Then, a week later, came the announcement that Uncle Cato had purchased a residence in the vicinity — and it was none other than the Willow Bend property up on the Kaw. To call it a residence certainly betokened modesty on the part of somebody. Willow Bend was not a residence at all. It was an estate.
“I have decided that it is best for the present that my nephew shall live in something approaching complete retirement. Deep wounds require time for healing — if they ever are healed. Fortunately, it is not necessary for Cletus to exercise the fine talents he unquestionably possesses in a business way. I have settled an adequate income upon him, and Willow Bend will shortly become his property. In the meantime, we shall go into seclusion.” That was the way Cato put it.
“Yeah,” Chief Enger, of the local police, commented bitingly when he scanned that statement. “Yeah, and Uncle Cato will be damned lucky if this seclusion stuff doesn’t turn out to be oblivion for him. Financial oblivion, at least. Why, confound it all, he’ll be lucky if within the next six months he ain’t drawing on charity for the necessary coffee — and!”
I had my own opinion, of course, but didn’t express it. Whichever way the cat jumped, Tug Norton was in the money.
I dismissed Cletus Santelle from my mind, having other things to think about. But the police didn’t dismiss him — not at all!
Queer, isn’t it, how obstinately skeptical the police are about a crook reforming?
Chapter IV
Dog Eat Dog
Affairs at Willow Bend seemed to go forward nicely indeed. Cletus was seldom visible off the grounds, but Cato proved to be a good mixer. One had only to look once at his smiling, happy countenance to know that everything was lovely with him. The inference was that everything was also lovely with Flash, too, because Flash was the biggest interest Cato had in life. People came, in time, to take the Santelles as a matter of course, which was to be expected.
Cops from all directions slipped in and out of Kansas City, each and every one of them having a pronounced interest in Flash Santelle. But, since not one of them had anything on him that they could make stick, the Santelles were undisturbed.
Then came a day, about three months after I’d forgotten about the Santelles, when I happened to be alone.
Cletus Santelle lapped on my door — tapped, and entered directly afterward.
“Pardon me,” he apologized smilingly, “but there was no one to announce me, so I took a chance and came right in. Is it all right? Can you spare me a few minutes?”
“Take a chair, park your hat and stick,” I invited.
“I’m aware, Norton,” he began, “that you’re not buying any Cletus Santelle stock, looking for a rising market, but I take it that you are too fair-minded to let personal prejudices interfere with business. Am I right?”
I nodded. “Got a job for me?”
“Yes.”
“So long as your proposition is on the square, Santelle, I’ll take your money. Unbosom yourself,” I invited.
“I’m being blackmailed,” he said, after a bit, looking at me with a seriocomic expression in his keen eyes. “Funny, isn’t it? But it is a fact. Before my uncle and I were brought together through your kind offices, I lived rather a haphazard sort of life. Perhaps you’ve heard rumors, now and then, about the sort of existence I mean?”
“Yes,” I said gravely.
“Well, as you must know, a chap meets a lot of queer customers, first and last, when dwelling in that vast estate commonly termed the underworld,” he continued. “One is forced at times to become very familiar with persons one would shun most willfully if it were a matter of choice.
“Naturally, I made acquaintances. Then came my uncle; good fortune, so long a stranger, tapped me familiarly on the shoulder — and I promptly became a shining mark for blackmailers.”
He ceased there, and his handsome features hardened. Then he was all smiles again.
“Yes,” he resumed, “the blackmailers scented me. Plenty of chance, too, you’ll allow, seeing how much advertising I got through the papers here and elsewhere. I have been, in the past, something of a public character, Norton, as you may have heard. Letters came to me from parties who hungered to have a share of my presumed wealth, and not one of the writers seemed to care anything about the ethics of the thing.
“Naturally, being something of a student of the processes of the criminal mind myself, as you may have heard, I destroyed these letters in the order of their arrival. They weren’t worth bothering about.
“But one came to me last week, mailed at St. Louis, which differs somewhat from the others. This fellow means business. You see, Norton, I happen to know him. One of the undesirable acquaintances, you understand.
“Of course his signature isn’t affixed, but there is sketched upon the page at the bottom a sort of design that is enlightening. This chap is shy a thumb and a little finger, both off the left hand. A neat sketch of a man’s hand, so mutilated, identifies the letter with the man. Do you follow me?”
A case of dog eating dog, eh? For the life of me, I couldn’t help feeling a sneaking liking for the polished, friendly chap, even though I knew that his pretense of honest respectability — thinly laid on before me, by the way — was a pretense only. What the devil was he up to?
I merely nodded, my face giving no hint of my thoughts.
“Glad you do,” he commented. “Well, Norton, this chap demands a cool fifty thousand dollars, else he will carry out certain designs upon my person which will result in totally unfitting me for further activities in this life. That is the gist of the letter.
“Understand me, Norton,” he went on, his face serious, “I am not one to tremble at shadows — nor at anything else, for that matter. The truth is, I need help only because during the coming week I shall be pretty well occupied with other things than watching for the three-fingered assassin to try his stuff. Otherwise, I assure you, I’d give him plenty of rope — and then jerk the rope at the proper moment. Unfortunately I must forego the pleasure I’d get out of playing a hand against him, and for that reason I’m asking you to sit in the game.”
That surely gave me a laugh — a quiet laugh, ’way down deep!
Chapter V
A Pair of Forty-Fives
Flash Santelle grinned broadly. The thing was serious, of course, but there was a certain humor in it that could not fail to appeal to him.
“The situation, as you outline it, seems to offer possibilities for excitement, as well as amusement,” I commented. “Suppose you spill it all, explaining just how the Kaw Valley can aid you in the emergency.”
“I want you to assign two thoroughly reliable, intelligent men to the case,” he replied promptly. “They are to be near me night and day. Put me to bed at night, as it were, and take me up in the morning. The day man must be one who can mingle with my guests as one of them, of course.”
“There is to be guests, then?” I commented. “How many?”
“About a dozen. Anderson Bailey and daughter, Marthe, Roscoe Patterson, wife, son, and daughter, and several out-of-town friends of both families, to mention a few. It is to be a house party extending over a week. Judge, then, how necessary it is to guard closely against anything unfortunate, such as my three-fingered correspondent threatens, happening during the week. Can you supply such men as I need?”