“And that’s the only way you knew it was raining?”
“Yes.”
“You’re positive?”
“Yes. Of course!”
“And you weren’t out of this room after nine o’clock to-night?”
“Would I be likely to leave it, attired as I am?”
“Answer the question. Were you out of the room after nine o’clock?”
This time she shifted her eyes, trying to escape the pinning down of the facts as though she could avoid them by moving her eyes from the steady stare of the inquisitor.
And her eyes instinctively sought those of Sidney Zoom.
This time there could be no mistaking the impressive significance of the gesture he made, the forceful pressing of a rigid forefinger against his closed lips.
“Answer the question,” boomed Sergeant Gromley, suddenly stern, unsmiling.
“No,” she said. “I didn’t leave the room.”
But her eyes were hesitant, helpless, and they looked pleadingly at Sidney Zoom. The sergeant swooped, pushed aside a filmy bit of silk, reached a long arm under the edge of the bed, brought out a pair of shoes.
“These your shoes?”
And she knew then that she was trapped, for the shoes were soaked with rain water. The knowledge showed In the sudden panic of her eyes, the pallor of her lips.
She looked at Sidney Zoom, suddenly stiffened.
“I have answered quite enough of your questions, sir. I will not make any more statements until I have seen a lawyer.”
He simulated surprise.
“Why... Why, Miss Raine, what could you possibly want to see a lawyer about? Has any one made any accusations against you?”
“N-n-n-oooo, I don’t know as...”
“Then why should you want a lawyer? Do you expect accusations will be made?”
She sucked in a rapid lungful of breath preparatory to speaking, then raised her eyes once more to Zoom’s face.
“I have nothing to say,” she said.
The sergeant snapped out a rapid barrage of words.
“Is it your custom to put powder on your cheeks, lip stick on your lips, have your hair freshly done up at one o’clock in the morning? Or were you expecting a call from the police, and, womanlike, wanted to look your best?”
It was plainly a relief to her that she did not need to answer the question. She simply shook her head, but the panic of her eyes was more evident now.
Sergeant Gromley turned to the men.
“Frisk the place, boys.”
Chapter IV
Jewels in the Mail Box
He spoke quietly, but the effect of his order was instantaneous. The men scattered like a bevy of quail. Drawers were pulled open, skilled fingers explored the contents. They even went to the bed, felt in the mattress, probed in the pillowcase.
Sergeant Gromley kept his eyes upon the defiant, but panicky eyes of the young woman.
“It might be much better for you, later on, if you told the truth now,” he said, gently, trying to make the fatherly tone of his admonition break through the wall of reserve that had sealed her lips.
He was almost successful. The touch of fatherly sympathy in his voice brought instant moisture to her eyes. Her lips parted, then damped tightly dosed again. She blinked back the tears.
“I have nothing to say.”
One of the officers turned from the dresser.
“Look what’s here,” he said.
And he held up a fragment of necklace, made of fine red beads, either rubies or colorful imitations, dangling with red splendor in the light.
“Where was it?”
“Hidden. Fastened to the back of the mirror with a bit of chewing gum. You can see where the string was broken, then it was tied up at the ends, and fastened to the back of the mirror.”
Sergeant Gromley grunted.
“Let’s see the gum.”
The officer handed him a wad of chewing gum. The outside was barely dry, had not commenced to harden. It was still soft and pliable.
Sergeant Gromley fastened his eyes upon the young woman once more.
“Yours?” he asked.
She glanced swiftly at Sidney Zoom, shook her head.
“I’ll answer no more questions.”
Sergeant Gromley sat with his back to Sidney Zoom. He spoke now, quietly, evenly, without raising his voice.
“Zoom, I’ve heard of you, heard of some of the help you’ve given the department. It’s customary to exclude all civilians from questionings such as these. I let you remain because of your record. Unfortunately you seem to have taken advantage of my generosity.”
Sidney Zoom’s voice was vibrant.
“Meaning,” he asked, “exactly what?”
Sergeant Gromley kept his back turned.
“Do you think,” he asked, “that I am an utter fool?”
And Sidney Zoom, rasping out his counter question in a voice that showed he was not accustomed to take orders or criticism, snapped: “Do you want me to leave the room?”
“Yes,” said Gromley, without turning his head.
Sidney Zoom gained the door in two strides.
“Come, Rip.”
Their feet sounded in the corridor, the man’s pounding along in great strides, the dog’s pattering softly, a rattling of claws sounding upon the uncarpeted strip of floor at the sides of the hallway.
There was a sardonic smile upon the features of Sidney Zoom as he gained the ground floor of the apartment house.
Here were a few of the curious inmates who had been aroused by the commotion, asking questions, babbling comments which were vague surmises.
Sidney Zoom walked to the outer lobby, paused, surveyed the row of brass letter boxes, each fitted with a keyed lock by which the box could be opened.
Sidney Zoom paused to take from his pocket a pair of gloves. They were thin, flexible gloves, yet they insured against any casual finger-prints being left behind.
“Fools!” he muttered to himself under his breath.
Then he took from a pocket a bunch of keys. They were not many in number, but each had been fashioned with cunning care by a man who had made the study of locks the hobby of an adventurous lifetime.
The third key which he tried clicked back the bolt of the mail box which went with apartment 342.
Sidney Zoom reached a gloved hand inside the aperture, removed a wadded scarf of silk. Within the scarf were several hard objects which rattled crisply against each other.
They might have been pebbles, or bits of glassware, but Sidney Zoom wasted no time in looking to see what they were. He simply dropped the entire bundle, scarf and all, into one of the pockets of his spacious coat, and then went out into the night.
He paused at the nearest available telephone, a small garage where a night man regarded him with sleep swollen eyes, and telephoned to the best criminal attorney in the city.
“This is Zoom speaking. The police are trying to pin a murder charge on a young woman, a Mrs. Eva Raine, who Eves in apartment 342 at the Matonia Apartments. They’re there now. I’m retaining you to handle the case under the blanket arrangement I have with you. Get out there at once. Tell her to keep quiet. Just tell her to shut up, and see that she does. That’s all.”
And Sidney Zoom clicked the receiver back on its hook.
He knew that the attorney would be there in a matter of minutes. Sidney Zoom kept him supplied with various and sundry cases which attracted the interest of the strange individual who had for his hobby the prowling of midnight streets and the matching of wits with both criminals and detectives.
Then Sidney Zoom summoned a cab and was driven to the palatial yacht upon which he lived.
Only when he was safely ensconced within his stateroom, did he take out and open the package which he had taken from the mail box.