“Last night” — Perry scowled — “Hoot sent three gorillas here to bump off Zane and Rowland. I intended to return. Later, I could have taken all the swag for myself. But Hoot’s gorillas failed.”
“Tonight, it’s different. I brought the full squad. Made a big catch, didn’t I? You three old fools! My sap cousin, Zane! There’s two more — walking into it. One is Rowland. Humph! He means nothing. But the other” — Perry grinned — “well, he’s a wise guy—”
The speaker paused. Footsteps were clumping down the front stairway. It sounded like two men with a heavy load. Perry Dolger, self-confessed master of crime, knew that Ed Mallan was returning with Rowland.
The footsteps moved into the front room between the hall and the library.
There was a sound of a burden being lowered. Then came louder footsteps.
Mallan was bringing Rowland back to the library.
Perry suppressed a chuckle as he motioned to his men. Gorillas covered the doorway with their gats.
Their purpose was obvious. Mallan and Rowland would be helpless the instant they entered.
Perry watched. The first to appear was the detective. He had let Rowland follow, not worrying about the docile servant. As Perry stared, he saw Mallan stop short, the moment that he entered the room.
There was a tense pause. Perry chuckled. He had Mallan. Rowland was nothing. Then Perry’s chuckle ended as a grin appeared upon the face of Ed Mallan.
The detective was not startled. To him, this was a huge joke. Mallan turned to Hoot Shelling.
“All right,” said the detective quietly. “Put ‘em up. Cover this one guy— that’s all. He’s the prize boob.”
Revolvers disappeared — some of them. But others remained in view. Those that still flashed in the fist of mobsters were pointed toward a common goaclass="underline" the figure of Perry Dolger!
ED MALLAN had turned the tables. The detective’s gold grin gleamed. Zane Dolger stood astounded.
So did the three philanthropists. Hoot Shelling laughed roughly and Greasy Karn followed suit.
“A showdown,” declared Mallan. “That’s what it is! A surprise for this wise guy” — a nudge toward Perry Dolger — “who thought he was mighty smart. You want the story?”
Mallan, still ginning, swung to the philanthropists. “All right. I’ll spring it.”
The private detective paused. Ed Mallan enjoyed a triumphant climax. He had gained one. He was making the most of it.
“You know part of it to begin with,” explained Mallan, addressing Zurick, Laverock and Kent. “I saw these Dolger boys visit Lyken. So I stuck around the jeweler’s place. That night, a couple of guys cut their way in.”
“I knew the pair. Hoot Shelling and Greasy Karn. I waited. I wanted to see what happened. Well — it came. A long wait; then a big explosion. I beat it. The next day I read the newspapers. Lyken had been bumped.
“Hoot didn’t rub him out. Neither did Greasy. I knew that. They were cover-up men. Well — who did? I had an idea it was one of these Dolger fellows. Nobody else could have had a reason. One of them could have sneaked in easy after Greasy sawed those bars.
“The next night, I went around to Phraytag’s. Saw a touring car near the house, so I watched it. Out came Hoot and Greasy. They climbed aboard. I shoved into Phraytag’s place and found the old guy dead.
“Who killed him? Same guy that bumped Lyken. One of the Dolger boys. So I put in my report. When you got it” — Mallan grinned at the philanthropists— “you didn’t like it. So you fired me. Then” — the dick paused cautiously— “well, something went hooey and you had to bring me back.
“Somebody pulled a fast one on you. This guy” — a nudge at the cowering Perry — “crawled into a mausoleum and grabbed a ring. It was Greasy opened the door for him. Eh, Greasy?”
“Yeah,” answered the lock-picking expert. “But I didn’t know what he wanted.”
“Let it pass,” chuckled Mallan. “Anyway, there was a swipe after that. You gents” — he nodded to the philanthropists — “said Dolger. And I said the same. So I went out to get the swag. I’d heard Hoot and Greasy talking about a hide-out over at Zemo’s hock shop in Brooklyn. So that’s where I went. I found they’d already sent three gorillas to bump off Zane Dolger.
“Then I knew that Perry was crooked but Zane wasn’t. It was too late to stop the gang. I was sorry for this guy Zane, like I was for Lyken and Phraytag, especially because I didn’t save Lyken and Phraytag.
“But Zane Dolger got out of it. That made the rest easy. I fixed it with Hoot and Greasy to pull a fast one on Perry. ‘Do what he says,’ I told them, ‘but hold it until I walk in. Then spring the fast one on the guy.
“So you’ve got him, Mr. Zurick. There he is — Perry Dolger. Hoot and Greasy have come over with me. Tell ‘em what to do with Perry. They’re waiting for orders.”
LUCIUS ZURICK was smiling. The other two philanthropists were still amazed; but their chief was ready to act. Tersely, in commanding tones, Zurick gave his orders.
“I have shipping connections,” he announced. “Take this man” — a contemptuous wave toward Perry Dolger — “to Pier E 16, on the East River. Turn him over to Captain La Greve, of the tramp steamer, Lille.
“Tell them that your prisoner has admitted that he is Jacques Duross. Let La Greve carry him to France and collect whatever reward is waiting the delivery. Go.”
Hoot and Greasy hesitated. Ed Mallan growled his approval of Zurick’s order.
“You heard him,” asserted the dick. “Get going!”
Thugs moved. Gun muzzles jabbed Perry Dolger’s back. The crew of gorillas filed from the library.
Footsteps faded. The side door closed.
IT was then that Rowland appeared. Mallan chuckled. The servant had wisely kept behind. He had heard the events within the library.
“Come on,” suggested Mallan. “We’ve got rid of the bad egg. Give me a hand, Rowland. We’re bringing in the box.”
The servant looked toward Zane Dolger. The younger heir nodded. Zane was still half-stunned by the amazing sequence of events. He watched Mallan and Rowland bring in the metal coffer. The detective prepared to unclamp the iron bands. He was stopped by Lucius Zurick.
“Just a moment, Mallan” — the philanthropist’s tone was one of dry humor— “before you open the coffer. I know that you were acquainted with Hoot and Greasy. Your rejected report told us that. I suspected, tonight, that you had made some arrangement to counteract Perry Dolger. But how did you manage it?”
“Easy,” replied the detective, as he undid the clamps of the coffer. “Hoot and Greasy were crooks, weren’t they? Working for dough, weren’t they?”
“Yes,” replied Zurick.
“Well,” asserted Mallan. “I blew in on them at Zemo’s. Asked ‘em what they’d been paid. Five grand, they said, from Perry Dolger. That made it a cinch for me.”
“You paid them—”
“The extra ten grand that I got from you. When you said ten, I hollered for twenty. I’m no chiseler. I didn’t want it for myself. I wanted that extra dough to buy off the bunch.”
Zurick nodded his understanding. He was lost in admiration of Mallan’s cleverness. The lid of the box was coming open; but Zurick was not impressed by the regained millions. He was still thinking of Mallan’s ruse.
“You know the criminal mind, Mallan,” decided Zurick. “That much is certain.”
“Maybe,” returned Mallan. “Maybe not. I know one thing, though. Guys like Hoot Shelling and Greasy Karn will always sell out to the bird that shows the most dough. That’s why they switched from Perry Dolger to Ed Mallan.”