Traps Need Fresh Bait

Chapter 5

I came back with the baggage. The aroma of coffee and broiling bacon greeted me as I opened the door.

Daphne had the place all tidied up, the blanket folded and put away in the closet, the bathroom a little steamy but spotlessly clean. She took the coffeecake out of the oven, dumped eggs from a bowl into a frying pan.

“Straight up, over easy, or scrambled?” she asked.

“How do you like them?”

“All three ways, but you’re the man of the house.”

“Scrambled soft,” I told her.

“Scrambled soft it is,” she said; and a couple of minutes later gave me a hot plate with scrambled eggs, broiled bacon and coffeecake, with a cup of fragrant coffee.

It was good coffee, the eggs were perfect, and the bacon was broiled just the way I like it.

She was watching me anxiously. “How am I doing, Donald?”

“So far, O.K.”

“Well, that’s a good beginning,” she said. “Let’s hope I can go the distance — and give satisfaction. What do I do next?”

“You stay here,” I said. “Cook yourself some lunch. If anybody wants to know who you are, you’re Mrs. Lam. There are enough groceries here for lunch and lots of canned goods. I’ll be back with some fresh meat in time for dinner. Stay right here. There’s a television that works. You’ll have to kill time. Don’t go out under any circumstances; don’t fraternize with any of the people in the adjoining apartments.”

“But, Donald, if they’re looking for me and I’m going under the name of Mrs. Lam...”

I said, “Sergeant Sellers would forgive me for living in sin. He wouldn’t forgive me for concealing a witness. He’d never forgive me for whisking a suspect out from under his nose.”

“Donald, what are we going to do with that brief case with all the money?”

“We’re going to leave it here,” I said.

“Is it safe?”

“Of course it isn’t safe. It isn’t safe anywhere.”

“Couldn’t you go to a bank and...”

“And what?” I asked. “Let the bank records show that we got a safety-deposit box and put this hot money in it? There’s only one safe place for that money, and that’s in the hands of the police. But the minute I let the police know we have it, the fat’s in the fire. Take care of yourself; I’ll be seeing you later.”

I walked out and left her looking woebegone and frightened.

As a modern detective agency, we had quite a few mechanical aids to assist us in our work — electric spotting devices by which we could fasten a little gadget to a car we wanted to follow and follow it by a series of beep signals. We also had a new device, a telespotter.

The telespotter is about the size of a small radio, actuated by batteries and transistors. Within a reasonable distance of a telephone, the telespotter will give the number that is being dialed on the telephone.

Electronic impulses actuate the mechanism and start a roll of thin paper being unwound. That paper consists of a string of numbers — 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 0. As the telephone which is being monitored starts dialing, the paper starts unwinding. As soon as the dial of any single number is completed, the numbers are punched out on the telespotter, the paper zips out to a point just past the zero, and the mechanism starts in all over again for the next number.

I went to my apartment, picked up a brief case, made sure the telespotter was in perfect working order, and slipped it in the brief case.

I drove to the Monadnock Building and went up to 1624.

The same woman sat at the desk. This time there were several people waiting.

“You had an ad,” I said, “about witnesses...”

“Oh, yes. However, I’m sorry, the witnesses who were needed have been found and... Say, weren’t you one of the... Why, yes, you came in here and...”

“That’s right,” I said. “I talked with Mr. Harper, and I want to see him again.”

She shook her head. “I’m afraid that’s impossible. Mr. Harper isn’t available.”

“Can you take a message for him?”

“I’m not certain that I’ll see Mr. Harper for... well, for some time. He comes and goes. However, I can try to get a message to him.”

I said, “When you get in touch with him, tell him that perjury is a felony.”

“Oh, I’m quite sure he knows that,” she said.

“And,” I went on, “tell him that suborning perjury consists of soliciting another person to commit perjury. That is an offense that is punishable by imprisonment in a state prison. Tell him that on that April fifteenth accident the Cadillac was the one that went through the signal and was at fault — and that the case had been settled long before he put his ad in the paper. Ask him what he intends to do next.”

She was looking at me with wide, startled eyes. “The accident was settled before the ad was put in the paper?”

“Right”

“How do you know?”

“I made it my business to find out.”

“How”

“I talked with the parties.”

“Well, of all the crazy things!” she said.

I said nothing, stood there letting the idea soak in.

“But what is there I can do?” she asked.

I said, “Mr. Harper is a client of yours. He might feel that you are entitled to an explanation.”

“And then?”

“And then you might pass the explanation on to me.”

“You feel that you’re entitled to an explanation?”

“Certainly. I answered the ad. I went to considerable time and trouble.”

“Oh, I see. You feel that you’re entitled to compensation?”

“Definitely not,” I said. “I’m not coming here for money; I’m not coming here with my hand out. I’m coming here for an explanation. That’s what I’d like to have — and that’s what I’m going to get, sooner or later, one way or another.”

“Well, it is rather puzzling, isn’t it?” she said, giving me the best she could conjure up in the way of a dazzling smile. “I’ll try and get in touch with Mr. Harper — although his arrangement with me was on a temporary basis and I’m not sure I can reach him at the moment. Your interest is only that of...”

“Of getting a clear explanation of what happened,” I said. “I would like to be sure that no crime was committed.”

“No crime?”

“An attempt to suborn perjury.”

“I see.”

“It would be very inconvenient for me to report a crime as having been committed if it turns out there was a reasonable, logical explanation for everything that had been done.”

“Yes,” she said acidly, “in dealing with reputable business people, an erroneous report of that nature could prove very embarrassing — very embarrassing indeed.”

“All right,” I said; “you understand my position. I want to be fair but I also want an explanation.”

“It seems to me you’ve put in a lot of time on this thing simply because you answered an ad.”

I smiled at her and said, “That’s right. I’ve put in a lot of time on it, and I don’t want to have to put in more with the Better Business Bureau.”

“I see,” she said dubiously. “Now, where can I get in touch with you, Mr. Lam?”

I said, “In all probability I had better be the one who gets in touch with you because I am in and out and...”

“But surely you have some address.”

“I have an address,” I told her, “but I keep moving around. I’d better keep in touch with you rather than have you try to get in touch with me.”

I gave her my best smile and walked out.

As soon as the door closed behind me, I walked a few steps so I was approximately opposite the receptionist’s desk, opened my brief case, and took out my telespotter and turned on the switch.

For a moment, nothing happened; but then, suddenly, the transistor-actuated machinery started reeling out a strip of paper.

I got the phone number, 676-2211.

I folded the strip of paper, replaced the telespotter and walked to the elevator.

I called my office and got Elsie Brand on the telephone.

“Elsie,” I said, “you’ve got to do a job for me. Jump in a cab, come to the Monadnock Building at once. Bring your notebook. I’ll meet you there. You’ll be on a job for perhaps two or three hours. If you have any good walking shoes in the office, put them on. You’re going to have to do a shadowing job for me.”

She said, “Donald, you know Bertha doesn’t like that. She doesn’t like to have me go out...”

“This is an emergency,” I told her. “I haven’t time to get any other person. Get over here just as fast as you can.”

“I’ll be there right away, Donald,” she promised.

I hung up and waited around the entrance of the building until Elsie arrived.

I paid off her cab, then took her into a little lunch counter and coffee stand in the lobby of the building.

“You’ve got to get this right,” I told her, “and it’s going to be difficult. Sit here and watch the elevators. They’ll be busy and crowded during the lunch hour, but there aren’t enough elevators so you can’t keep an eye on the people who come out.

“Now, then, the person I want is about thirty-two years old; she’s a woman five feet four inches tall, weighing one hundred and twenty pounds. That doesn’t mean anything; you’ve got to watch for her clothes. She has on a dark-blue plaid outfit with red collar and cuffs on the jacket, and there’s a little bunch of red flowers at her throat.

“When that woman comes out, I want you to follow her. I want to find out where she goes; and if she talks with anyone, I want you to find out who that person is, if possible. In order to do that, you’ve got to shadow the person she talks with until he or she gets in an automobile. Pick up the license number of the automobile.

“I want you to take down a complete description of the person or persons she talks with — how they’re dressed, the color of their hair — everything you can find out.

“You’ll need expense money. Here’s fifty-five dollars. You may have to run up a cab bill.

“Sit here at the lunch counter drinking coffee and toying with a piece of pie until you feel you may have begun to attract attention. Then get two cabs. Have them parked at the curb on opposite sides of the street. Put them on waiting time. Sit in one of the cabs and wait.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to get just one cab and have it in readiness...”

“No,” I said, “she’ll come out of the lobby. If she turns down the street, your cab will be headed in the wrong direction. You can’t make a U-turn within a matter of blocks. You’d have to go around the block to pick her up, and that’s probably going to be too dangerous. So you have a cab on the other side all ready and waiting.”

“When will I have an opportunity to report?”

“I don’t know. Find out whom she talks with, then go back to the office and wait. I’ll get in touch with you sometime during the afternoon.

“There’s one other thing. If this woman uses a telephone booth, pretend that you’re waiting for her to complete her call. Stand looking over her shoulder and try to get the number that she calls.

“Now, don’t get too worried up about this, Elsie. I want the information very much indeed, but I realize what a difficult job I’m giving you; and if she gets away without you spotting her, that’s all there’ll be to it. We’re taking a gamble, that’s all.

“She’s running a business office and she’ll be staying up there until it’s time for lunch. But I think she’ll go out for lunch.”

“Do you know if she always does?”

“She doesn’t do it always,” I said. “If she has an emergency, she rents one of the offices during the noon hour. But I think she only does that in an emergency. However, we can’t tell.”

“What office is she in, Donald?”

“Sixteen twenty-four,” I said. “She runs an answering service and office rentals. Do the best you can. If we don’t pick her up at noon, we’ll have to try something else and shadow her when she gets off at night. That’s going to be a lot more difficult.”

“I’ll do the best I can, Donald,” she promised.

“Good enough,” I told her.

I left the building, went to a phone booth, dialed 676-2211. A beautifully modulated voice said, “Lathrop, Lucas and Manly.”

I said, “Wrong number; sorry,” and hung up.