Yet pessimism governed the little group of men who were again assembled in the Green Room of the huge Hotel Pavilion. These men — the same ones who had met before — wore serious faces as they listened to the report of Police Chief George Yates.
The bulky, red-faced official was addressing his remarks to Mayor Rufus Cruikshank, who sat solemnly at the head of the conference table.
“They’re running away from us,” admitted Yates, in a reluctant tone. “There’s no use dodging the facts. Who the crooks are is beyond me. We’ve railroaded a lot of small-fry gunmen, and we’ve tried to break up the game, but it won’t work!”
“Be specific,” ordered Cruikshank, in a dignified voice. “You have talked of crime at each of our meetings, chief, and we have given you orders. Nevertheless, despite our cooperation, matters seem to have become worse. Give us a resume of recent events.”
“Dope, for one thing,” said Yates, shifting uneasily. “Seaview is loaded with it! The whole town is hounded by cokers. It seems like this is headquarters for all the hop shooters.”
“You have made arrests—”
“Yes, but all we seem to get is the addicts. We’ve had Federal men down here, but they can’t seem to get at the source of supply. We’ve watched the roads; we’ve watched the trains; we’ve put on a guard up at the harbor. No luck at all!”
“The airport?”
“Watching there, too. Fact is, your honor, I’ve made the force shorthanded, detailing so many men on that one line of work.”
“Where are the dope sales being made?” questioned Louis Helwig, the promoter.
“Everywhere,” retorted Yates. “Right here in this hotel, for one place.”
He looked toward Graham Hurley as he spoke, and the hotel proprietor seemed to imbibe some of the police chief’s uneasiness. Rufus Cruikshank became stern.
“What about it, Hurley?” he asked.
“I guess the chief is right,” answered Hurley. “I don’t like it, but what can I do to help it? If the dope peddlers weren’t in town, there wouldn’t be sales anywhere.”
“Correct,” agreed Cruikshank, looking toward Yates. “What have you done toward cleaning up the undesirable spots during the past week?”
“Plenty,” replied Yates. “But I’ve been taking them one by one. Have to, you know, because my force is scattered. But it seems like every time we shut up half a dozen, a flock of new joints bob up. It’s a big job, your honor!”
“Do you believe that your force is inadequate?”
“Yes! It wasn’t before” — the chief’s gaze hardened — “but now nearly a dozen of my men are out. About eight of them are in the hospital — battles have put them there. But there’s three — well—”
Cruikshank’s eyebrows arched questioningly as Chief Yates hesitated.
“Well?” queried the mayor.
“Well,” said Yates, “they’re unaccounted for — that’s all! Just gone out of the picture. Failed to report at the station house. No traces of them. What’s happened is something I can’t figure.”
“Who were they?”
“Two detectives, one patrolman. Both of the detectives were on duty at the Seaview Pier. Easy assignment, that. Make a check-up late at night, out to the end of the pier and back. They just haven’t turned up, since. The policeman was on regular patrol duty. He never came back.”
“You have investigated the pier?”
“Yes, sir. Sent down a detective sergeant. Nothing wrong with the place. He even looked into the old building on the end. It’s being used as a storehouse for boating supplies. Still has the tank that they used for submarine tests, but that’s no longer being used.”
“What else, chief?” questioned Cruikshank brusquely.
“Suicides,” asserted Yates. “Too many of them.”
“We had suicides here before,” put in Raymond Coates, the real-estate man.
“The rate is three to one, now,” responded Yates. “I had an idea people came to Seaview City to have a good time — not to jump off the ends of piers and out of hotel windows.”
GRAHAM HURLEY avoided the chief’s gaze. The others looked serious. It was a known fact that four persons had plunged from the upper stories of the Hotel Pavilion within the past twelve days.
“To what do you attribute these deaths?” asked Cruikshank.
“Dope — liquor — gambling — ” Yates detailed his statements “- and other things, perhaps, that we haven’t located. I’m telling you, gentlemen, matters are in a bad way here. I’m up against crime that’s so big it has me guessing!”
“Dope,” remarked Cruikshank. “You have covered that, Yates. Continue your present action. It will probably bring results. What about liquor?”
“That’s the one bright spot,” responded Yates. “It’s set me to thinking. We always have a lot of bootleggers, and we know how to handle them. There’s been less booze than before. That’s why I figure some big shots are playing the other games, and leaving liquor to the small fry.”
“Gambling?”
“Heavy. The biggest gambler in the country is located right here in Seaview City. Big Tom Bagshawe — the fellow that runs the Club Catalina.”
“The Club Catalina is being run respectably,” objected Raymond Coates. “I and other members of the Public Safety Committee have gone there frequently. It is a bright spot in Seaview City — an excellent attraction on the board walk. I feel that it should not be molested.”
“The club’s all right,” admitted Yates, “but I’m thinking about that gambling joint that is over it. Swell-looking place and all that — but it’s equipped for roulette and faro in a big way.”
“You have raided it?” asked Cruikshank.
“No,” returned Yates. “I’ve been watching it. Seems to be all right when I’ve got my eye on it, but at other times I’m doubtful.”
A laugh of disdain came from Coates. The mayor turned toward the real-estate man and spoke severely.
“Chief Yates is an efficient man,” he declared. “I shall tolerate no criticism of his work. I have faith and confidence in him. If necessary, I shall advise an increase of the force.”
“I’m not criticizing the chief,” protested Coates hastily. “I just don’t see why he should be worrying about places that he can’t find wrong. There’s too much real trouble in Seaview.”
“We discussed the matter of an increased force,” interposed Louis Helwig. “I don’t think that we should bring up that matter again — for the present at least. I think that when Chief Yates locates the real sources of evil, he will be able to cope with them. If he needs men then, let him have them.”
Nods of approval were the response of the other members. Rufus Cruikshank summed up the opinion by giving an approving nod, and announced that the meeting was adjourned.
AS Mayor Cruikshank walked from the Green Room, Police Chief Yates accompanied him. The mayor received his silk hat and donned it. He was the personification of dignity as he strolled toward the board walk, carrying his gold-headed cane.
Cruikshank noted that Yates was about to head in the other direction. He stopped the chief with a gesture. Yates followed him down an incline, and they stopped by the mayor’s parked limousine.
“Come with me,” suggested Cruikshank in a low voice.
Yates entered the car, and the two were driven to the mayor’s residence. Here they entered a small office. Cruikshank invited the chief to sit down, and offered him a cigar.
“Yates,” said Rufus Cruikshank sternly, “there is something on your mind. Tell me about it.”
“You’re right, your honor,” declared Yates, in a relieved tone. “I’m glad to get alone with you. I’m tired of these committee meetings.”
“You may come to me any time that you need advice.”