Relavan shrugged his shoulders.
“Right,” he said, with a grimace. “Boy, they must have been gettin’ a new class of dicks since I got out of stir!”
Hargrave turned on him. “What did you go to Goldfinch for, the diamonds?”
“No,” said Relavan, “I didn’t. I don’t know that I was going straight, but I wanted to lay low. I applied for half a dozen jobs, all on forged references. This guy, Slacker, that runs things for Goldfinch, took a shine to me. He’s a square shooter, too. He knew my references were forged, found that out before he hired me; but he hired me anyway. That is, he got Goldfinch to do it. Goldfinch’d do everything Slacker told him to.”
Sergeant Huntington jabbed an accusing forefinger at Relavan.
“We’re going to search your room out there at the house. You’ve got diamonds in it?”
Relavan shrugged. “Four or five small ones the housekeeper overlooked when she cleaned up the place.”
The sergeant nodded. “Thought so. Book him, Jack”
The detective escorted his prisoner from the room. The first trickle of drab dawn percolated through the window. The sergeant grinned at Sidney Zoom.
That individual produced the dodger, describing Robert Reelen, alias Sid Whalen, alias Charles Gillen. “Can you find me his record?” he asked.
Sergeant Huntington took the dodger carelessly, jabbed his forefinger on a button. A man thrust his head into the room, caught the sergeant’s beckoning finger and entered.
“Take this up to the Identification Bureau. Get me the dope on it right away.”
The man vanished.
“Could we talk with the housekeeper?” asked Zoom.
Sergeant Huntington stared at him.
“What’s the matter? Think this case isn’t solved yet?”
Zoom took a cigarette from his pocket case, lit it deliberately.
“Your men arrested a girl in a pawnshop. I’m interested in her. I don’t think she’s guilty.”
The grin on Sergeant Huntington’s face was wide.
“Oh, her! Myrtle Crane her name was. Booked already, bail fixed at ten thousand cash, twenty thousand bond. Maybe she’s telling the truth. I’ll let you talk to the housekeeper.”
He jabbed the button once more, gave orders that Sally Barker was to be awakened, brought in. There followed an interval of silence. After it had lasted for minutes Jack Hargrave came back. He was grinning.
“Notified Phil Brazer over the phone. You should have heard him.”
Sergeant Huntington chuckled.
There was a knock at the door. A man walking swiftly upon rubber heels came to Sergeant Huntington’s desk. He bent over, whispered. There was a rustle of paper, a grunt of wonder from Sergeant Huntington.
“Listen, you fellows,” he said. “This dodger is a fake. It was printed on a hand press somewhere. The boys can’t find anything on this guy or his record, nor did we get any such dodger.”
Hargrave pulled his forehead into a frown.
“Well,” he said, “what’s the answer?”
Sergeant Huntington looked at Sidney Zoom.
At that moment there was another knock and the door swung open. A heavy set matron, dad in black, her face expressionless, led a slender woman with deep, lackluster black eyes into the room.
“Sit down, Mrs. Barker,” said Sergeant Huntington.
The woman folded herself into angular compliance, arranged her skirts so that they were smooth across the knees, raised her black, lackluster eyes and spoke in a drab tone of utter listlessness.
“I can’t tell you nothing more. You don’t believe me, anyway.”
Sergeant Huntington cleared his throat, leaned forward until the old swivel chair creaked under his shifting weight.
“All right. This’ll jar you loose from some conversation. Arthur Madison, the butler, was Shortly Relavan, the noted gem thief and ex-convict. He’s confessed. How do you feel about that?”
The woman’s face remained a drab mask. The thin hand with the blue veins and raised tendons, showed just a trace of nervousness as it smoothed over the skirt once more. But the voice was the same as ever, a monotone of comment.
“Fancy me working with an ex-convict!”
Jack Hargrave slammed a remark at her.
“Ain’t you interested in what he said?”
Her voice was in the same even, uninterested tone.
“What did he say?”
“He said you killed Goldfinch.”
“I didn’t.”
“How did you get the diamonds?”
“I’ve told you. You won’t believe me. Mr. Goldfinch told me he’d tom up his will. He gave me those stones in case anything should happen to him. I was to pawn them and get the money.”
Sergeant Huntington squirmed forward to the very edge of his chair. His big fist banged on the desk. His expression showed that he was going to make one last determined effort to browbeat the truth from the woman.
Sidney Zoom stepped forward, his long arm picked up the dodger which had been left on the desk, the one containing the picture of Robert Reelen. He whirled, extended the paper toward the woman.
“Know him?” he asked.
The lackluster eyes flickered to the paper. For a swift instant there was an expression of surprise. Then it vanished.
“Yes,” she said.
“Well?” asked Sidney Zoom.
“He used to come to the house. I think he sold diamonds. His name was Charles Gillen. He hadn’t come for a while. I thought he was a smuggler, maybe.”
Sergeant Huntington brushed aside the matter of the dodger.
“I want,” he said slowly and impressively, banging his fist upon the desk as he spoke each word, “to get the rest of those diamonds. Tell — me — where — they — are!”
The woman’s hand, sliding over the smooth surface of her skirt, gave a convulsive clutch at the cloth. It was but a momentary tightening of the fingers. Then the hand relaxed and the lackluster eyes were raised to the glittering eyes of the sergeant.
“I’ve told you all I know.”
Sidney Zoom got to his feet.
“If you’ll excuse me,” he said, “I’ve work to do.”
His long legs gained the door in four strides.
The two men watched him with eyes that were wide with surprise. Sidney Zoom’s hand tightened upon the knob of the door, spun it. He pulled it open and vanished into the corridor without so much as a backward glance.
The door slammed shut and the two men looked at each other. Then they looked at the slender figure in the chair. She raised her deep-set, unsparkling eyes, lowered them almost at once. The fingers of her right hand clutched at the cloth of her dress.
Chapter VII
Zoom Visits an Office
Sidney Zoom paused before a door on the seventh floor of a down town office building. Rip, his police dog, stood at his side, tail waving softly to and fro.
Sidney Zoom tried the lock with a key, failed, tried again. The third key clicked back the catch and Sidney Zoom entered the office.
Dawn had tinged the skyline of the city with a ruddy glow. Already the streets were commencing to rumble with the first signs of traffic, yet it would be some time before the office workers would throng into the business district.
The office air was stale after the freshness of the dawn. It assailed the nostrils as some foul poison, and Sidney Zoom’s lip curled with disgust as he inhaled. But he mastered his disgust and set to work.
The office was a single room affair, and it was a litter of odds and ends. Dusty papers were piled in confusion. A desk was grimed with dust, covered with old correspondence. A pile of newspapers was in one comer of the room. A closet offered storage space for some old coats, a dust covered hat, an umbrella and a box filled with an assortment of letters.