CHAPTER XIII.BLACKMAIL.
The cabman did not allow the grass to grow under his feet.
It did not take him long to reach the Studio Building.
“He’s a rascal,” Carter commented, as he tracked the cabman; “I can make use of him.”
The detective was amused.
That he had formulated some shrewd move was quite certain from the manner in which he was acting.
The cabman entered the Studio Building.
Carter was close behind him.
Not for an instant did the man suspect that he was the person who had given Rich’s name and address to him.
“Does Mr. Rich live here?” the cabman asked of the elevator boy.
Carter was standing in the elevator, and he heard what was said.
“Mr. Rich lives on the top floor,” the boy replied to the cabman.
“Is he in?” the cabman inquired, getting into the elevator.
“You can go up and see.”
“All right.”
When the top floor was reached the elevator boy pointed out Rich’s room.
The cabman hurried up and knocked on the door.
Carter walked leisurely down the hall. He haltedhalfway down and looked out of the window. He stood in such a position that he was able to see the cabby.
Three times the driver pounded on the door without receiving a response.
The fourth time he knocked as if he were going to break in a panel.
Some one opened the door.
Carter could not see who it was from where he was standing, but he heard the cabman exclaim:
“I want to see Mr. Simeon Rich.”
“He isn’t in,” a female voice replied.
Carter did not recognize it, but he surmised that it belonged to either Sally Rich or Isabella Porter.
“I want to see him, miss,” the cabby insolently said. “If he isn’t in I’ll wait until he comes.”
“Who are you?” the woman within the room asked.
“It doesn’t matter who I am.”
“It doesn’t, eh? Well, I guess it does.”
“Is Rich in there? If he is, tell him that the cabman who drove him about town on the day before New Year’s wants to see him.”
“Let him come in,” a man’s voice called out from the interior of the room.
The coachman pushed by the woman and entered the apartment.
Instantly the door was closed.
Carter hurried up to the door.
A transom was above it.
It was halfway open.
Reaching up, Carter caught hold of the edge of the sill under the transom and pulled himself up until he was able to peer into the room. He beheld Richand Darwin seated on divans at the side, and two women lolling back in steamer chairs. The cabman was standing in the center of the apartment gazing boldly at Rich.
“What do you want?” Rich demanded, in a stern tone, as he glared at the cabby.
“Do you want me to talk out before these people?” the cabby asked, looking around the room at those present and waving his hand toward them.
“I have no secrets from them.”
“You haven’t, eh?”
“No.”
“Then you must all be in the same boat. This is rich graft.”
“What do you mean?”
Rich uttered an oath and sprang up. He realized that the cabby knew something. He was enough of a student of human nature to read the man’s intentions in the expression of his face.
The cabman did not flinch.
“I guess you’ll come to time, Mr. Rich,” he insolently remarked, with a sneer.
Rich stood within a few feet of him. He raised his arm above his head, as if he intended to strike the man, but thinking better of it, he allowed it to drop to his side again, and he muttered an oath.
Cabby was no fool. He knew what was in Rich’s mind.
“If you had tried to strike me then I’d have floored you,” he growled. “And it is well for you that you did not try it on.”
Rich made no reply. He only glared at the cabby in silence.
His face was as dark as night.
Carter hung on to the sill. He had viewed the scene through the transom, and he had heard every word that had been uttered.
His arms were aching. He was forced to let go his hold.
Without making a noise he dropped to the floor.
Now he stood outside the door and listened.
At last he heard Rich exclaim:
“Speak out, sir, and tell me how you learned my name and address?”
“I’m not giving my friends away,” the cabby replied.
“What do you want?”
“Money.”
“Money!”
“Yes.”
“What for?”
“To keep my tongue from wagging.”
“I——”
“You understand me, Mr. Rich. The man whom you tracked from the Grand Central on the day before New Year’s was the man who was murdered at the Red Dragon Inn.”
Carter had raised himself up again so that he was peering through the transom when the cabman uttered these words.
Rich did not start. He displayed not the least sign of fear. He glanced at the man with a sinister expression upon his darkly handsome face.
“I am aware of that,” he replied, in cold, harsh tones.
“You are a good bluffer, Rich,” the cabby remarked, and he smiled.
It was as good as looking at a play to watch these two men.
Both now had their tempers under command.
“You call me a bluffer,” Rich retorted.
“I do,” cabby rejoined. “I am not afraid of you. I will go to the police and inform them that you tracked Lawrence on the day before New Year’s, and you hired one of the worst thugs in the city to keep on his trail. Carter would reward me liberally for this information.”
“You are a scoundrelly blackmailer.”
“I acknowledge the corn. I’ve got you in a corner and you will have to pay——”
“Not one cent will I give you.”
“Think twice, Mr. Rich.”
“Be careful, Sim.”
It was one of the women who spoke. She had come up to Rich’s side and laid her hand gently upon his arm.
The man glanced at her and said:
“I know what I am about, Sally.”
Carter knew from this that the woman was Rich’s sister. The other woman he surmised was Isabella Porter.
A broad grin spread over the cabby’s face.
“Yes, be careful, Mr. Rich,” he sneered. He was becoming more insolent the longer he waited.
Rich wheeled around. His large, black eyes were flashing, his face was aflame with passion.
“Yoube careful,” he hissed between his clenched, white teeth, and he drew his arm back.
Sally threw herself between her brother and the cabman.
“Sim,” she ejaculated, “calm yourself.”
“Yes, calm yourself, my covey,” cabby repeated with a chuckle.
Rich bit the ends of his mustache and glared. He was making a desperate effort to keep calm. A silence followed.
Cabby kept his eyes on Rich.
When he saw that Simeon was not going to speak he said:
“Let us get down to business, Rich. There is no use of trying to bluff me. I’m too old a bird to stand any kind of a jolly.
“I can read your character, and you ought to be able to read mine.
“If I should go to the police with the information which I possess, you know they would come down on you heavily.”
“Wait one moment.”
“Let me finish.
“I have no desire to injure you if you treat me halfway decently.
“Times have been very bad with me lately, and I need money.
“I feel convinced that you and your friends have gained by the death of old Lawrence.
“In to-day’s paper was published an account of the Lawrence will case, and it was suggested that a search be made for you and the wife and daughter of the murdered man.
“The police do not know where you are.
“They have no evidence against you.
“But I can furnish that evidence.
“Now, how much is it worth to you for me to keep silent?”
The cabby spoke calmly and deliberately. Rich followed him closely. He frowned, and his fingers worked nervously, as if he were desiring to spring upon the man and strangle him. He did not reply for some moments. He looked around at Darwin and the women.
“What shall I do?” was in his eyes.
“Pay,” Darwin said, alarmed.
Rich turned his eyes on the cabman.
“How much do you want?” he asked.
“One thousand dollars,” cabby coolly replied, without changing an expression.
“Absurd!”
“No, it is not.”
“It is.”
“To keep me quiet one thousand dollars is a small sum.”
“How do I know, if I do pay you this sum, that you will not give me away, anyhow?”
“I never go back on my word.”
“I will give you five hundred.”
“Not a cent less than a thousand.”
“I can’t give you any such sum as that to-day.”
“I won’t be hard on you.”
“Thank you.”
“You don’t mean that. I’ll take part on account.”
“I’ll give you one hundred.”
“Make it three.”
“I can’t, I tell you.”
“I’ll take the century.”
“Here it is.”
“Now, when will you pay the balance?”
“To-morrow.”
“Shall I call here?”
“No; I will send the money to you.”
“At my stand?”
“Yes.”
“What time?”
“Noon.”
“Very well.”
“It’ll be on hand.”
“See that it is.”
“What is your name?”
“Pete McCree.”
“What is the number of your cab?”
“Number one hundred and forty-seven.”
Cabby started toward the door.
Before he turned around, Carter dropped. He ran toward the elevator, which he reached before the door of the room was opened.
While standing with his back turned he changed his disguise.
Then he got into the elevator.
As soon as the detective reached the street he halted near the entrance.
When McCree came out he walked up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.
“Hello!” McCree ejaculated.
“I’m on hand,” Carter remarked.
“So I see.”
“How much did you get?”
“Not much.”
“How much?”
“One hundred bones.”
“Why didn’t you make him pay more?”
“He couldn’t produce to-day, but he will do so to-morrow.”
“I get half.”
“Certainly.”
“You are square.”
“I’ll get this note changed.”
“I’ll change it.”
“Have you got fifty?”
“Yes.”
“Here’s the century.”
Carter took the bill and handed the cabby back fifty dollars.
“Now let me give you a piece of advice,” he said.
“What is it?” McCree asked.
“Keep out of risky places to-night and be on your guard.”
“Why?”
“You are dealing with desperate men.”
“I am aware of that, pard.”
“Rich may employ some one to try and put you out of the way.”
“You should have seen how he acted.”
“I can imagine what he said.”
“I’d like to know what kind of a game he and those others are playing?”
“So would I.”
“I’ve got to get back to the stand. I’ll see you to-morrow.”
Carter shook hands with the rascally cabman, and they separated. The detective hastened away.
Half an hour later he was ushered into the presence of the cashier of the safe deposit company.
“Have you discovered a clew?” the cashier asked.
“I’ll reply to that question as soon as you have answered a few queries which I am going to put to you,” the detective said.
“What is it?”
“You said that you gave Mr. Lawrence new bills.”
“I did.”
“Do you remember the numbers?”
“I can tell you in a moment.”
The cashier walked over to a desk, picked up a slip of paper, referred to it and said:
“They were from 177865B to 177870B.”
“Keno!” Carter shouted. He held in his hand the note which Rich had given to the cabman. He was looking at it when the cashier read the numbers.
“What is the matter?” the cashier asked.
“Do you see this bill?” Carter said, as he held the bill out for the cashier to inspect.
“Gracious! Captain, that note is numbered one hundred and seventy-seven thousand eight hundred and sixty-nine B! That is one of the bills which I gave to Mr. Lawrence!”
“Will you swear to that?”
“I will. That is one of the bills.”
“Thank you.”
The two men were silent.