The Garaucan Swindle

CHAPTER XIV. CARDONA REPORTS

ANOTHER evening had come to Manhattan. Detective Joe Cardona was glum as he turned eastward from Broadway, above Times Square. The sleuth had occasion to be morose. He had just talked over the telephone with Commissioner Wainwright Barth.

Joe had experienced a tough period when Ralph Weston had first been appointed commissioner. Driving and domineering, Weston had been a hard taskmaster. But he had at least inspired Joe. Weston’s threats had been the kind that forced a man to real action.

With Barth, it was different. He wanted the goods brought in. He gave no orders; he simply made demands. This had driven Cardona to desperation. To-night, for instance, he was to report to Barth. If he came empty-handed, it was a sure bet that the detective would be taken off the case of the Founders Trust robbery.

Not that Joe would have minded. He had begun to detest Barth. But he felt that a break was due, that he was entitled to it, not whoever might take up the job in his stead. Weston at his worst was better than Barth could ever be at his best, so Cardona decided. It was for that very reason that he intended to stick and make Barth like it.

Joe was planning a course right now — one that he never would have tried with Weston. The ex-commissioner was quick to criticize moves that proved futile. But Barth, apparently, would be ready to commend anything that savored of progress, even though it might be wrong. Joe was in a mood to experiment.

His footsteps brought him to the Antrilla Apartments. The detective entered. He went to the desk, growled his name to the clerk and said that he wanted to see Dobey Blitz. The clerk made a phone call; then nodded. Joe went up in the elevator.

A rough-faced gorilla met the detective at the door of the anteroom. Joe recognized the mug as “Growler” Gluck, an ex-mobster who had wound up his career by serving as a speakeasy bouncer in the days of prohibition. Growler was evidently the new bodyguard who had taken the place of Chunk Elward.

GROWLER led Joe across the reception room. He knocked at the further door. The barrier opened.

Dobey Blitz, a smile on his puffy lips, stood beckoning to Cardona to enter. The detective went into the private room.

“Got a new door, I see,” remarked Cardona, by way of opening conversation.

“Yeah,” returned Dobey, gruffly. “And the cops didn’t pay for it. Fine outfit you’re working with. Smash into a man’s place and let him pay the costs.”

“We didn’t start the fight here,” stated Cardona.

“You didn’t end it, either,” retorted Dobey. “The mess was bad enough without you palookas battering down the door to this room. What was the idea, anyway?”

“Just wanted to see if you were home, Dobey.”

“Yeah? Well I wasn’t.”

“So I know.”

Dobey poured himself a drink from a bottle. He shoved the liquor toward Cardona, who shook his head.

Dobey swallowed the stuff at a single gulp; then glared at the detective.

“What’s the good of stalling?” questioned Dobey, suddenly. “I know why you’re here, Joe. You’re trying to pin that bank robbery business on me, ain’t you?”

“Perhaps.”

“Which means yes. Well — there’s no use trying. I can prove where I was that night. Up at that new joint — the Club Samoset. Ask Dinger Jacques, the mug that runs it.”

“Not much of an alibi, Dobey.”

“It’s good enough. Besides, I don’t go in for cracking cribs. You’ve got nothing on me, Joe. Better run out and pull in a couple of pickpockets, so you can call it a day’s work. That’s all you’re good for.”

Cardona had nothing to say. He preferred to let Dobey do the talking. The big shot saw the detective’s game and laughed.

“Think I’m going to tell you something?” questioned Dobey. “Well — you’ve got another guess. I’m telling nothing because I know nothing.”

“Too bad,” remarked Cardona, “that none of those gorillas we grabbed lived to spill what they knew.”

Dobey grinned and poured himself another drink. He knew that Joe’s remark had been a lead. That was why he made no statement of his own. He paused, however, glass in hand and wagged a finger at the detective.

“This third degree business don’t bother me,” he declared. “Pinch me if you want. You’ll learn nothing. You’re after some guy that pulled that bank job. Listen: I’ll give you advice. Get evidence. You can’t move a step without it.”

“Such evidence as bullets?”

“Yeah.” Dobey paused to swallow his drink. “Smart, wasn’t it, those mugs yanking the slugs out of the cop and the watchman. You’ll never identify the gat that rubbed out those fellows. A good idea, all right — couldn’t have thought of a better one myself.”

“Bullets aren’t all that count,” observed Cardona, following a sudden inspiration. “Sometimes it’s the people concerned. When you find them in two places on the same night — like here and at the Founders Trust — you begin to wonder what’s up.”

“That don’t apply to me,” growled Dobey. “I wasn’t either place.”

“Some one was, though.”

“Who?”

“The Shadow.”

DOBEY stood motionless. Cardona fancied that the big shot paled. Mechanically, Dobey reached for bottle and glass. One clicked against the other as he poured a third drink. He downed the liquor. The jolt seemed to give him courage. Dobey laughed.

“The Shadow, eh?” he demanded.

“Sure,” said Cardona, standing by the door. “The Shadow pulled that fight here. He stopped that mob at the subway entrance. You may think you’re getting away with something, Dobey. Remember, The Shadow knows.”

For a brief moment, Dobey seemed to waver. Then his laugh came hoarsely. With a crafty grin, he delivered a thrust that caught Cardona at his weakest spot.

“The Shadow, eh?” demanded Dobey. “So he’s the link. Well, I’ll tell you what to do. Run along and spill that line to the new police commissioner. Tell him The Shadow was the big gun. See what he has to say.”

Cardona said nothing. Dobey opened the door to usher the detective out. Cardona walked across the reception room, with Dobey following.

“You know what the commish will tell you, don’t you?” jeered the big shot. “He’ll tell you to take a trip to one of them psychopathic wards. He’ll send a couple of guys around with you every evening to see you don’t get scared in the dark.”

“That won’t help you any,” retorted Joe. “It’s too bad you weren’t up here the other night, Dobey. We might have found an extra body on that fancy carpet of yours.”

Dobey glowered. The suggestion was not to his liking. Joe strolled out, feeling that he had at least given the big shot something to worry about.

WAINWRIGHT BARTH was at Tobias Hildreth’s. Hence Cardona headed for the banker’s home.

Lowdy, the big butler, ushered the detective into the study. Joe found Barth there, along with Hildreth and Gorton Jodelle. The commissioner surveyed the detective through his pince-nez.

“We’ve been waiting for you, Cardona,” snapped Barth. “What have you to report?”

Cardona hesitated.

“Come!” exclaimed Barth. “Don’t be reticent. Why stand there like a lout? Have you discovered the rogue who headed those bank robbers?”

“I’ve just been talking to him,” affirmed Cardona.

“Where is he then?” demanded Barth. “Didn’t you arrest him?”

“You can’t pinch a guy on suspicion,” retorted Cardona. “You’ve got to back it up with evidence.”

“Ah! You mean this so-called big shot, Dobey Blitz. I thought you had given him up, Cardona. You spoke that way when you made your last report.”

“You’re wrong about that, commissioner. All I said was that I couldn’t pin the goods on the guy. I said it looked like I’d have to try something else. Anyway, I talked with Dobey.”

“Where?”

“At his apartment.”

“Well,” decided Barth, taking off his spectacles and wiping them, “that is one point to your credit, Cardona. You have at least made progress.”

Cardona withheld a smile. His hunch was proving true. Barth reminded him of a school-master. So long as a pupil could present evidence of effort, he was apt to be satisfied. Though it rankled him, Joe decided to follow up his odd success. He felt that the old army game of hokum might impress the pedantic commissioner.

“Dobey talked,” informed Joe. “He said more than was good for him. He’s yellow, that guy. First thing he did when I came in was grab a drink.”

“Ah!” exclaimed Barth, with keen interest. “He became perturbed?”

“That don’t half describe it, commissioner. He began spilling alibis. Told me he was at the night club on Broadway, run by an old bootlegger called Dinger Jacques. That was enough for me.”

“How so, Cardona?”

“Dinger Jacques is an old alibi artist. He’s covered for so many guys that it’s a joke. I’m going to see Dinger. Give him a tip that maybe his night club will have to turn out its bright lights. When Dobey calls for his alibi, it will be missing.”

“My word! You’re using tactics, Cardona. Why not arrest Dobey Blitz at once?”

“It won’t do.” Cardona had created his impression. He was ready to ease his story. “Give me time, commissioner. I can find gorillas who’ll blab. I want to get the goods on Dobey before I smash his alibi. Then I’ll land on him again. I’ll make him talk right.”

“You mean confess?”

“More than that. I’ll make him tell who’s behind the whole racket. The one you call the brain. I might even have got it out of Dobey to-night — but I laid off.”

“That was unwise.”

“Not under the circumstances. Dobey was still sure of his alibi. I left him worried. He took three drinks while I was there to-night: three drinks in twenty minutes. The longer he has to think things over, the more worried he will be.”

“Excellent, Cardona. These are good tidings.”

The detective sat down. He had bluffed this cookie who called himself police commissioner. Cardona felt new confidence. He was sure that he could stall Barth as long as he wanted. That would give him time to work on the case.

CARDONA was pleased as he looked toward Hildreth and Jodelle. The banker was fully as impressed as Barth had been. That was a good sign. Jodelle was chewing his lips. Cardona grinned slightly. He felt that Jodelle regarded him as a rival; that any success Cardona gained would not be relished by Jodelle.

Hence Cardona was satisfied that he had sold his idea to Jodelle as well as the others. To bluff as smart an investigator as Jodelle was something to be proud of. Cardona had worked hokum tactics on crooks; but he had never resorted to them under circumstances such as these. He was more than pleased by the result.

“We are progressing, Hildreth!” exclaimed Barth, turning to the banker. “Weston told me that Cardona would be my ace. I am convinced that Weston was right. If you can only aid us — through Jodelle. Has he a report, also?”

“Let Jodelle speak for himself,” suggested Hildreth, turning to the investigator.

“I’ve just been going over details,” said the investigator in a husky tone that seemed to denote disappointment. “Tracing Zellwood has been a hard job, since the man is dead.”

“Of course,” put in Barth.

“I’ve gotten the names of people who talked with him,” added Jodelle, “but Mr. Hildreth vouches for them as bank customers. That’s what makes it difficult. I don’t like to make an actual report until I have checked everything in full with Mr. Hildreth.”

“Certainly,” agreed Barth. “Hildreth is your employer. As a private investigator, Jodelle, your work differs from that of my detectives.”

“I’ve got a lot of data here,” said Jodelle, producing a large stack of papers. “It will need weeding — inquiries — what not.”

“Surely,” remarked Barth. “Nevertheless, I should appreciate it if you could prepare the data for my inspection.”

“It should be ready by to-morrow. That is, if I have time to take it up with Mr. Hildreth to-night.”

“We shall not delay you,” declared Barth, rising. “Come, Cardona. Let us be on our way. I shall call you, Hildreth, to discuss matters at a future time.”

Cardona rode down town in the commissioner’s car. All the way, Barth was babbling his approval. The longer he considered Cardona’s verbal report, the more pleased he became. Joe grinned in the dark.

When he dropped off near Times Square, he mumbled to himself as he stood upon the curb.

“What a line I gave him!” was the detective’s comment. “I couldn’t have made first base if I’d ever tried that hooey on Commissioner Weston. Say — this bird is a sap. But there’s going to be tough sledding ahead, if he expects real results. Hildreth and Jodelle fell for it, too. Boy! I’ve got to get a break this time. A real break, after that bunk!”

Worry replaced elation as Cardona sauntered along Broadway. The detective knew that his boasts had been idle. Dobey Blitz had licked him. Joe had nothing on the big shot. Dobey was the last man in the world who could be made to talk. The break Cardona hoped for seemed far, far away.

Yet even while Cardona worried, the break was in the making. His halfhearted visit to Dobey Blitz’s had produced more of an impression than Cardona thought. Though he knew it not, Joe had accomplished something.

Hopefully, the detective turned his thoughts to The Shadow. He half suspected that The Shadow, like himself, was waiting for the break. The supposition was close to the truth. Though The Shadow had already neared his goal, he, too, was waiting for a turn of events that set the field for a mighty stroke.

For once, Cardona had helped The Shadow. The action that the detective had started with his chance remarks was to bring a double opportunity. Once The Shadow had seized it, Cardona would profit by the master’s deeds.