“Good heavens!” the voice exclaimed. “Don’t try to sell me. I know. Giff Farrell is a crook. He’s trying to get control of the company so he and his friends can make a cleanup by manipulating company assets. I wouldn’t trust him two feet away for two seconds. I want you to have the information that I have.”
“Can you put in a letter?” Conway asked, curious.
“No, I can’t put it in a letter,” she said impatiently, “and if you knew as much as I know, you’d realize that I’m in danger just talking to you.”
“What danger?” he asked.
“In danger of getting killed,” she said angrily, and slammed up the telephone.
Jerry Conway sat at his desk for some minutes after he had dropped the receiver into its cradle on the telephone. There had been something about the voice that had carried conviction.
However, Jerry knew the necessity for caution. Half a dozen attempts had been made to frame him during the last two weeks. If he should go to a motel, leave the door open, have some young woman join him in the dark, and then perhaps a few minutes later there should be the sound of police whistles and— No, it was a chance Jerry simply couldn’t take. Even a little unpleasant newspaper notoriety coming at this time could well turn the tide in the proxy battle.
Jerry Conway waited for fifteen minutes, then again switched out the lights, saw that the night latch was on the door, and went down in the elevator.
Rosalind telephoned the next day at a little after eleven.
Jerry Conway’s secretary said, “There’s a woman on the line who gives the name of Rosalind and no other name. She says you know her, that she has to talk with you, that it’s important.”
“I’ll talk with her,” Jerry said. He picked up the telephone, said, “Hello,” and again heard the smooth tones of Rosalind’s voice, a voice that he felt he should recognize but couldn’t.
“Good morning, Mr. Conway.”
“Good morning, Rosalind.”
“Did you know you’re being followed?”
Jerry hesitated. “I have wondered if perhaps certain people weren’t taking an undue interest in my comings and goings.”
“You’re being tailed by a high-class detective agency,” she said, “and that agency is being supplemented by a couple of thugs. Be very, very careful what you do.”
“Thank you for the warning,” Jerry said.
“But,” she went on, “you must see me. I’ve tried to think of some way of getting in touch with you. One of the men who’s shadowing you at the present time is a private detective. He’s not dangerous. He’s just doing a routine job of shadowing. However, there’s another individual named Baker, whom they call Gashouse Baker. He’s a one-man goon squad. Watch out for him! Are you armed?”
“Lord, no!” Conway said.
“Then get a permit to carry a gun,” she said. “You shouldn’t have too much trouble spotting the detective. Baker will be more difficult. At the moment, he’s driving a beat-up, black car with a corner bent on the license plate. Don’t take any chances with that man!
“These people are playing for keeps and they don’t intend to play fair. You’re looking for a straightforward battle for proxies and you’re planning everything along those lines. These people don’t play that way.
“And don’t ever mention to anyone that you have been in communication with me. I shouldn’t have given you the name of Rosalind, but I wanted to put the cards on the table.”
Jerry Conway frowned thoughtfully. “I wish you could tell me something of the nature of the information you have, something—”
“Look,” she said, “I can tell you the number of proxies they hold, and if I have your assurance that you can protect me, I can give you the names of the people who have sent in proxies. However, if any of this information should get out, they’d know where it came from and I’d be in danger.”
“How much danger?” Jerry Conway asked. “If it’s economic security that you—”
“Don’t be silly!” she interrupted sarcastically. “I’ve seen one woman after Gashouse Baker worked her over. I— Oh-oh!”
The phone abruptly clicked and the connection went dead.
Jerry Conway gave the matter a great deal of thought. That noon he drove around in a somewhat aimless pattern, carefully watching cars in his rearview mirror. He couldn’t be certain anyone was following him, but he became very uneasy. He felt he was in danger.
Conway knew that he was going to have to take a chance on Rosalind. If she had the information she said she had, it would be of inestimable value. If he knew the names of the persons who had sent in proxies, there would still be time to concentrate a campaign on those people.
Rosalind called shortly after two-thirty. This time there was a note of pleading and desperation in her voice.
“I have to get this information to you so you can act on it. Otherwise the company will be ruined.”
“Exactly what is it that you want?”
“I want to give you information. I want primarily to keep Giff Farrell and his crowd of goons from wrecking the company. I want to protect the honest investors, and I... I want to get even.”
“With whom?”
“Use your imagination,” she said.
“Now, look here,” Conway said, “I can have a representative meet you. I can send someone in—”
She interrupted with a hollow laugh. “The business that I have with you is with you personally, with the number-one man in the company. I’m not taking any assurances from anyone else. If you’re too cautious to meet me face to face to get this information, then I guess the things Giff Farrell is saying about you are true!”
Conway reached a sudden decision. “Call me back in fifteen minutes,” he said. “I’m not free to make arrangements at the present time. Can you call in fifteen minutes? Will you talk with me then?”
“I’ll call,” she promised.
Conway summoned his secretary. “Miss Kane, the young woman who has just called me is going to call again in fifteen minutes. She’s going to make arrangements with me for a meeting, a meeting which has to be held in the greatest secrecy.
“I want you to listen in on the conversation. I want you to make shorthand notes of exactly what is said so that if the necessity should arise, you can repeat that conversation verbatim.”
Eva Kane never appeared surprised. She took things in her stride, with a calm, professional competence.
“Do you want shorthand notes of what she says, or shorthand notes of the entire conversation?”
“Notes of the entire conversation. Transcribe them as soon as you’ve taken them, and be in a position to swear to them if necessary.”
“Very well, Mr. Conway,” Eva Kane said, and left the office.
When the phone failed to ring at the end of the fifteen-minute period, Conway began restlessly pacing the floor.
Abruptly the telephone rang. Conway made a dive for the desk, picked up the receiver, said, “Yes?”
Eva Kane’s calmly professional voice said, “A young woman on the line who says you are expecting the call. A Miss Rosalind.”
“You ready, Miss Kane?” Conway asked.
“Yes, Mr. Conway.”
“Put her on.”
Rosalind’s voice came over the line. “Hello, Mr. Conway?”
“Rosalind?”
“Yes. What’s your answer?”
“Look here,” Conway said, “I want to talk with you, but I’ll have to take adequate precautions.”