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The Case of the Velvet Claws :: Гарднер Эрл Стенли
Страница: 85 из 149He seemed pretty much frightened. He put some things in a suitcase, and, about quarter to one, an automobile drove by for him, and he got in and left. He told his wife that he’d get in touch with her and let her know where he was. This morning she received a telegram saying: ‘All right. Don’t worry. Love.’, and that’s all she knows. Naturally she was a bit worried.”
“That’s fine,” Mason said.
“Does it mean anything to you?” asked Drake.
“I think it does,” said Mason. “I’ve got to think it over a bit. I think it means a whole lot. Have you got anything new on Locke?”
Drake’s voice showed animation. “I haven’t found out what you want to know yet, Perry. But I think I’m on the tracks of it all right. You remember this jane at the Wheelright Hotel? This Esther Linten?”
“Yeah,” said Mason. “What about her?”
“Well,” said Drake, “it’s a funny thing, but she came from Georgia.”
Mason whistled.
“That’s not all,” went on Drake. “She’s getting some regular sugar from Locke. There’s a check that goes through every two weeks, and it’s a check that doesn’t come from Locke himself. It comes from a special account that Spicy Bits keeps in a downtown bank. We managed to get the cashier at the hotel to talk. The kid has been cashing the checks through the hotel regularly.”
“Can you trace her back to Georgia and find out what she’s been mixed up in?” Mason asked. “Maybe she hasn’t changed her name.”
“That’s what we’re working on now,” Drake said. “I’ve got the Georgia agency working on it. I told them to send me a wire just as soon as they had anything that looked definite, and not to wait until they had run it down, but to keep reporting progress.”
“That’s fine,” Mason said. “Can you tell me where Frank Locke was last night?”
“Every minute of the time. We had a shadow on that boy that stuck to him all evening. Do you want a complete report?”
“Yes,” said Mason. “Right away.”
“Where shall I send it?”
“Make sure that your messenger isn’t followed, and is somebody you can trust. Have him drop in at the Hotel Ripley, and leave it at the desk for Fred B. Johnson of Detroit.”
“Fine,” said Drake. “Keep in touch with me. I may want to get you.”
“Okay,” agreed Mason, and hung up.
He went at once to the Hotel Ripley, and asked at the desk if there was anything for Mr. Johnson. Upon being advised that there was not, he went up to 518 and tried the door.
“That’s fine,” Mason said.
“Does it mean anything to you?” asked Drake.
“I think it does,” said Mason. “I’ve got to think it over a bit. I think it means a whole lot. Have you got anything new on Locke?”
Drake’s voice showed animation. “I haven’t found out what you want to know yet, Perry. But I think I’m on the tracks of it all right. You remember this jane at the Wheelright Hotel? This Esther Linten?”
“Yeah,” said Mason. “What about her?”
“Well,” said Drake, “it’s a funny thing, but she came from Georgia.”
Mason whistled.
“That’s not all,” went on Drake. “She’s getting some regular sugar from Locke. There’s a check that goes through every two weeks, and it’s a check that doesn’t come from Locke himself. It comes from a special account that Spicy Bits keeps in a downtown bank. We managed to get the cashier at the hotel to talk. The kid has been cashing the checks through the hotel regularly.”
“Can you trace her back to Georgia and find out what she’s been mixed up in?” Mason asked. “Maybe she hasn’t changed her name.”
“That’s what we’re working on now,” Drake said. “I’ve got the Georgia agency working on it. I told them to send me a wire just as soon as they had anything that looked definite, and not to wait until they had run it down, but to keep reporting progress.”
“That’s fine,” Mason said. “Can you tell me where Frank Locke was last night?”
“Every minute of the time. We had a shadow on that boy that stuck to him all evening. Do you want a complete report?”
“Yes,” said Mason. “Right away.”
“Where shall I send it?”
“Make sure that your messenger isn’t followed, and is somebody you can trust. Have him drop in at the Hotel Ripley, and leave it at the desk for Fred B. Johnson of Detroit.”
“Fine,” said Drake. “Keep in touch with me. I may want to get you.”
“Okay,” agreed Mason, and hung up.
He went at once to the Hotel Ripley, and asked at the desk if there was anything for Mr. Johnson. Upon being advised that there was not, he went up to 518 and tried the door.