Black Star's Campaign/Chapter 23
CHAPTER XXIII
MUGGS GIVES A TIP
IT was evident that the hotel switchboard operator was surprised to get a call from the roof.
"Oh, it's all right!" Verbeck heard Landers say. "I'm up on the roof with the Misses Whaley. One of the ladies is going to leave the city, and she wanted to call a friend from here—just a whim. I found the door unlocked."
Then he gave a number. Roger Verbeck made a mental note of it. Here might be a clew that would lead to something important.
Verbeck crept close to the door, and listened. Presently Landers spoke again.
"Hello! This is Landers! I'm trapped on the roof of the New Nortonia Hotel with Mamie and her sister. Kowen and his crowd are trying to break the door in now, but I think it'll take them some time, and then I can stand them off for a while. If you don't come for us, we're caught. … Yes, Verbeck and the sheriff. They walked in on us. I got them under control, but some others came. The place is a regular trap. … Thanks! But hurry!"
Verbeck slipped to one side as Landers put the receiver on the hook and hurried out. He followed the Black Star's lieutenant back across the roof, and watched as he met the women.
"He'll come for us!" Verbeck heard Landers say. "It'll take him some time, of course—fifteen minutes at least. We'll have to hold off those men on the other side of the door. If it comes to the worst, some of them will get something more than a dose out of a vapor gun. I don't intend to spend fifteen or twenty years in prison!"
"If we had only gone downstairs" Mamie Blanchard began.
"If we had, we'd have run into a few deputies. I tell you they planned to trap us! They've shadowed some of us"
"Then it must have been you!" Mamie Blanchard told him. "I have not been out of the hotel, remember. It's your carelessness that got us into this mess!"
"Well, we won't quarrel about it," Landers said. "You women go to the other side of the roof and wait. I'll stay near the door and handle those men if they manage to break it open."
Landers approached the door, and Verbeck crept after him. The light was so faint that he could see little—just a shadow where the master crook's lieutenant was walking. Verbeck crouched as he advanced, made no noise, and was ready to stop if Landers betrayed any suspicion. But Landers, it appeared, did not expect a foe on the roof, and was intent only upon the door at which the sheriff and Lawrence were pounding.
Verbeck had picked up a piece of timber beside the little refreshment stand. It was the only weapon he had. He hated to use it, but he felt that the situation justified its use. Landers was about a match for him physically, and it was Verbeck's duty to make a prisoner of him, open the door, and let the others take the women into custody.
Landers was stamping upon the door.
"Get away, or I'll fire through it!" he called, as the pounding ceased for a moment.
He sent one shot crashing through the wood and Verbeck could hear a chorus of shrieks below. He knew Landers' plan—to delay them as much as he could. And for what? That was what Verbeck could not fathom.
To whom had Landers telephoned? How could he be rescued from the roof? Would the Black Star and his band face a battle with police and deputies, attempt to raid the hotel and save Landers and the two women?
Landers had stepped back, and was listening to what was being said below. Verbeck crept forward until he was within six feet of the other man. He raised the piece of timber.
He sent but one blow home, but he knew as it struck that it would send Landers crashing to the roof, even though it did not render him unconscious. He sprang past him, and fumbled at the heavy bolts on the door, drew them, and threw the door open.
"Up—quick!" he cried.
Glad cries from the sheriff and Lawrence greeted him. They sprang to the roof, two deputies at their heels. They seized the groaning Landers, and rushed across the roof toward the women.
"Torches!" Kowen cried.
The torches flashed. The women were standing near one of the big chimneys. Kowen led his deputies toward them.
"You don't get away this time!" he said. "It's handcuffs and a cell for you! You've played your last game with the Black Star, you two beauties!"
The fair prisoners were led toward the stairs. Landers had been handcuffed, and was being carried to the floor below. Verbeck and Lawrence followed them, but when they reached the floor below, Verbeck called the sheriff aside.
"Landers telephoned from the refreshment stand on the roof," he said. "I have made a note of the number; it might lead us to something. But here is the funny part—he asked somebody to come and rescue him. How they are going to try it, I do not know; but I think that message went to the Black Star."
"Maybe he'll try a raid here," Kowen suggested.
"Landers estimated, so he told the women, that he would be here in fifteen minutes, at least. But how could even the Black Star get enough of his men together to raid a place like this in that length of time? It's the roof we have to watch. You remember how the Black Star escaped from the roof of the National Trust Building, don't you? He seems to have methods of which we know nothing."
"Some more of that light stuff, and talking to us out of the air, probably," the sheriff said. "Well, what shall we do?"
"Have your deputies put the prisoners in a room and guard them. We'll stay here by the door and watch the roof!"
Sheriff Kowen gave the orders. He and Verbeck remained by the door, Lawrence with them.
"What's the big idea?" Lawrence inquired.
"Perhaps nothing; we are waiting to see," Verbeck replied.
"Well, can't you let a fellow in on it? If it hadn't been for me, those people would be far away by this time; and you'd be bound and gagged in that room, waiting for the public to laugh at you!"
"Simply this," Verbeck said; "Landers telephoned to somebody to rescue him from the roof, and we are waiting to see who comes to do it, and how he comes."
They waited for ten minutes without hearing or seeing anything. They left the door and walked to the nearest chimney, and stood there, watching, listening, like men who expected something to drop from the sky.
And something did come from the sky—that puzzling, brilliant light they were learning to know so well. It flooded the roof, swept across it, almost blinding the three men there. Verbeck and Kowen and Lawrence ran back to the open door, shading their eyes with their hands.
The light disappeared and they heard the Black Star's voice. "What have you done with my people?" he shouted.
"We've put handcuffs on 'em, you crook!" Kowen shrieked. "And we'll do as much for you one of these days!"
"Watch out!" Verbeck warned.
Some sixth sense seemed to tell him what was coming. And it did—a vapor bomb that burst not ten feet from the doorway. They darted back and away from it. They saw the bright light flood the roof again. Then the darkness came once more, and they heard nothing more, saw nothing more.
"I'd like to know how he does that!" Kowen said. "Does he hang around in the sky like a star? Well, he didn't rescue anybody, anyway! That's one comfort!"
"He hasn't been more than fifteen minutes getting here," Verbeck said. "But we don't know how he is traveling, and so we can't judge how far away his headquarters might be. That telephone number"
"We can investigate that, at any rate, the first thing in the morning," Kowen said. "I'll get the telephone people busy. Now I'll take these prisoners down to the jail and give each of them a nice little room, American plan."
The prisoners were taken away, the excitement in the hotel died down, Verbeck went to Lawrence's suite to smoke a cigarette and get away from the crowd for a time, and finally started home.
He was worrying about Muggs, for one thing. He was hoping that the valet would find some way in which he could be of service, while he was a prisoner in the Black Star's headquarters. He knew that Muggs could be depended upon to make every effort.
The Black Star's threat—about doing something sensational the following night—also came to his mind. Was the master rogue to win again? Was there no way in which he could be stopped, recaptured, put behind prison bars? Already the city was in the grip of terror. No man could tell where the Black Star would strike next. He might loot another bank, or a jewelry store, or raid the jail in an effort to rescue his companions in crime. The public was considering everything—except the thing that the Black Star had actually planned to do.
Mrs. Richard Branniton completed her arrangements for entertaining the distinguished diplomats, Lord Sambery and Sir Burton Banks, and had no thought that the master criminal might pay her residence a visit while her guests were enjoying themselves.
Verbeck reached his rooms and threw himself into an easy-chair to rest. He did not fear for himself. He did not think that the Black Star would make an attempt to abduct him again, for prisoners were only in the way at the master criminal's headquarters. Also, there were half a dozen plain-clothes men in the apartment house, watching everybody who entered, ready to act in any emergency that might present itself.
It was too early to retire, so Verbeck smoked, and tried to read a magazine, but found that he could not get himself interested. He disliked to go to one of his clubs, for all the other members would want to discuss the Black Star and nothing else.
He started across the room to get a favorite book from the case, but whirled around and went back, because the telephone had rung.
"Hello!" he called.
"Verbeck?"
"Yes."
"This is the Black Star. Some of my men have informed me how Landers and the two women were caught. It took courage to climb to the roof the way you did, but that is not the point. Those three people are very necessary members of my organization, and I want them released."
Verbeck laughed into the telephone.
"Have you called the sheriff?" he asked. "He seems to be the man in charge just now."
"I have not called the sheriff yet. I thought I'd call you first, and get you to influence him. You see, Verbeck, I have Muggs here with me."
"What has that to do with it?"
"Simply this—if I have to descend to violence, I'll do it. Nothing shall stop me from having my revenge upon the city. Unless those people of mine are released by noon to-morrow, I'll blow the jail off the map—and I'll attend to Mr. Muggs."
"In what way?" Verbeck asked.
"I'll simply have him knocked on the head and dumped into the river. If I have to be violent, I'll be a proper thug! What have you to say?"
"Nothing, except that you have a wonderful nerve to speak as you do."
"Perhaps you think I can't blow the jail to pieces?"
"I do not say you can't, but I don't think you'll do it—not with Landers and The Princess inside it."
"And maybe you think I'd hesitate about making away with Muggs, do you?"
"I scarcely think you'll do anything of the sort," Verbeck said. "You would accomplish nothing, and you'd be hanged for murder after we caught you."
"You don't think I am serious," the Black Star replied. "I agreed to give you until noon to-morrow"
"But I couldn't make the sheriff turn them loose! You may be sure that he'll guard them well, and see that they stand trial. Why, if they were turned loose"
"I'll arrange that. They are to be freed and put in the middle of the polo field. I'll do the rest. On second thought, I'll give you more time, Verbeck, if you have to argue with the sheriff. I'm going to be busy to-morrow night, as I have said. I'll give you until the following morning. I'll ring you up then for your answer; and it had better be what I want to hear."
"You actually think we'd do such a thing?" Verbeck asked. "We'd look pretty, wouldn't we, turning three criminals loose because another criminal asked it!"
"Not an ordinary criminal—but the Black Star! And I don't ask it—I demand it! Muggs is here, and I am going to let him speak to you. Perhaps you don't really believe that he is here. He'll tell you that I am serious and mean what I say."
Verbeck waited, his heart pounding at his ribs. If Muggs only had the presence of mind, if he
"Hello, boss!" came Muggs' voice over the wire.
"Hello, Muggs."
"I'm sure here in this big crook's headquarters, boss. I don't know what he intends to hand me, but it'll be plenty."
"Muggs, what do you want me to do?" Verbeck asked.
"Well, maybe I'm prejudiced," Muggs said, "but I don't care to be knocked on the head and thrown in any river. It wouldn't be a hard job for them—the river ain't far away!" That was a hint, at least. "And it ain't exactly nice to be croaked with music ringin' in your ears"
Verbeck heard an exclamation of rage, the sound of a blow, a gasp, and then nothing more except a little click that told him the wire was dead. Muggs had tried to give a tip, and had not been given a chance to complete it.