Читать книгу Smoky Cell - Edgar Wallace - Страница 7

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JUST for an instant O'Regan paused, and his glance swept from Perryfeld to Josephine and back to Perryfeld; then he strode in his desk, tossed aside his hat and sat down.

"This is Miss Brady, Chief," said Spellman. "She was at Schnitzer's place last night when the shooting happened."

Josephine glanced up and found a pair of steely-blue eyes surveying her. She tried to smile, but the effort was not much of a success, and her glance wavered and fell. She would have to be terribly careful, she decided, if Captain O'Regan started asking her questions. With those eyes staring at her, it wouldn't be easy to tell a lie and get away with it. Perhaps, after all, it would be wiser to tell him the truth. If only she dared! If only she could pluck up the courage to tell him the truth now, while Perryfeld was there on the spot! She was at Police Headquarters, and was perfectly safe, and she might never have a chance like this again to get out of the tangle. She had only to say, "Captain O'Regan, it was Perryfeld who killed Mr. Schnitzer; I saw him do it," and the whole wretched business would be over and done with.

She took a hesitating step forward, glancing nervously, as she did so, at Perryfeld. He was watching her, with a smile on his face; as their glances met she saw his hand move towards the side pocket of his coat, saw also the ugly look in his eyes, and hesitated. Always a gun not many feet away from her, he had said—even at Police Headquarters. He had got his gun on her now, and if she said one word...

"I'd better be asking Miss Brady a few questions, eh, Chief?" said Lavine. "I guess she can't tell us much, and there's no need to take up your time."

O'Regan glanced at him, frowning.

"I'll question Miss Brady myself," he said shortly. Then, nodding towards Perryfeld: "Who's this?"

"This is Mr. Perryfeld, Chief," said Lavine. "We've been showing him around. He's anxious to meet you—"

"Sure I am," interrupted Perryfeld, smiling genially. "I've heard of you, Captain."

O'Regan's face was unsmiling as he glanced across at him.

"Quite a lot of people in Chester County have," he said.

"I've always been anxious to meet you."

"Quite a lot of people aren't, Mr. Perryfeld."

"I'll tell the world they're not," laughed Perryfeld; "but I'm not one of them. From all I've heard, you're a swell fellow, Captain—"

"Put that testimonial in writing," interrupted O'Regan, "and I'll frame it and hang it in the office." He turned to Spellman. "Show Mr. Perryfeld the way out, Spell, will you?"

"Say, what's the hurry, Captain?" said Perryfeld. "I'd like a bit of a talk with you—"

"You might not. And I'm busy now, anyway. I want to talk to Miss Brady alone."

Spellman went to the door and opened it, but Perryfeld made no move.

"If you've no objection, Captain," he said, "I'd be interested to stay right here and listen. I've never been present at a grilling, and I'd welcome the chance of seeing how it's done."

"Never been grilled yourself, eh, Mr. Perryfeld? Too bad! But keep hoping. You may get your chance one day. Lieutenant Spellman's waiting to shut the door behind you."

"O.K., Captain," replied Perryfeld. "I'll be along again some other day. Glad to have met you."

With a glance at Josephine he followed Spellman out, and Lavine closed the door behind them.

"Miss Brady was at Schnitzer's place last night, Chief," he said again, "but she didn't see—"

"Didn't I say I'd question Miss Brady myself, Lavine?"

"Sure. But I'm just telling you—"

"And I said 'alone'," added O'Regan.

"Oh, all right," said Lavine, with a shrug, and slammed the door behind him.

O'Regan glanced across at Josephine and waved a hand towards the chair on the opposite side of his desk.

"Sit down, Miss Brady, won't you?" he invited.

She went slowly forward and seated herself, aware all the time of the keen scrutiny of O'Regan's eyes. She could not bring herself to look at him. She sat with downcast eyes, her hands clasped together in her lap, dreading the moment when he would speak and she would somehow have to answer him. She felt that it would be useless trying to deceive him, that he would know at once that she was not telling the truth; yet even here, alone with him in his office, she would never dare to tell him the whole truth. Perryfeld's visit just when she was brought to Police Headquarters had not been a coincidence. He had come with some set purpose, and she had not the least doubt as to what his purpose had been. He had not trusted her, and had meant to be there on the spot to see that she kept her promise to him and to carry out his threat if she failed him. He had even tried to stay in the room while she was questioned, and the fact that O'Regan had refused to allow this did not reassure her. Perryfeld was not far away. He would somehow get to know exactly what she told O'Regan, and if she told him the truth she would never be allowed to reach home again. Outside in the street someone would be waiting for her....

"Well, Miss Brady?"

She forced herself to look up, and saw O'Regan smiling at her.

"How are the toes?"

"Toes?"

"The toes I danced on at the Social Club the other evening. Don't tell me you've forgotten."

She smiled.

"No, Captain O'Regan, of course I haven't. I remember perfectly."

"The evil that men do lives after them, eh? I guess I left you plenty of souvenirs. I intended sending you a new pair of dance shoes, but I didn't have your address. When it comes to dancing, sitting-out is my strong point. Not feeling sore with me?"

"Not now," she said.

"But you were?"

She nodded.

"I thought you might have told me that I was dancing with the famous Captain Tricks O'Regan. I had no idea. I only found out when I saw your photograph in the newspaper and recognized you. You said your name was Smith—"

"I did," he admitted. "But when a police officer goes dancing he doesn't advertise his profession. It doesn't pay—professionally. Besides, there's a prejudice amongst young ladies against a policeman's footwork, and he'd get no partners."

Josephine was breathing more freely. Captain O'Regan had remembered her and seemed quite disposed to be friendly. Perhaps he wouldn't ask her too many questions. They had got on splendidly together the other night. They had danced together most of the evening, and he had said that he was hoping she would let him see her again some time; and then he had suddenly disappeared and left her partnerless. She had understood later, when she had seen his photograph in the newspaper and recognized him, that he had probably been called away on police business, and she had been vaguely disappointed at the thought that he had left without having her address and she would, in all likelihood, never meet him again.

And now here she was, sitting in his office, and he was obviously glad to see her, and perhaps, after all, there was nothing to be nervous about. He would probably take her word as a friend and not ask too many awkward questions.

"Not quite such pleasant surroundings as the last time we met, eh, Miss Brady?" he said. "I'm afraid we don't cater for our visitors' comfort, either physical or mental, at Police Headquarters, and I'm sorry it has been necessary to invite you here. But I've got to ask you a few questions. You see, Miss Brady, I'm not Mr. Smith in this office; I'm Captain O'Regan, and—"

"You think I may prefer Mr. Smith?" She smiled. "I'll tell you later, shall I—when you've finished grilling me?"

"I guess there'll be no question of 'grilling', Miss Brady," he said. "People who tell the truth needn't have any fear of Tricks O'Regan or any other police officer." The smile left his face and his mouth grew grim. "But if anyone comes into this office and starts lying—then God help them! If I had my own mother sitting where you're sitting, she'd have to tell me the truth or take the consequences."

He was silent for some moments, gazing at her searchingly. She managed to meet his glance without wavering.

"Well, Captain O'Regan? What do you want to know?"

"I want to know who killed Schnitzer."

"I can't tell you that."

"No idea? No suspicion?"

"None at all."

"Can't say whether the person who did the shooting was tall or short, fat or thin, young or old?"

She shook her head.

"Just can't tell me anything at all?"

"Nothing."

"Too bad!" said O'Regan. "Well, I may as well tell you, Miss Brady, that at 7.15 last night the person we suspect of doing this killing was seen entering Schnitzer's place in your company—"

"He wasn't," she flashed. "I went there alone." O'Regan smiled.

"I know you did," he said. "We've established that fact."

"Then why say—"

"I'll tell you why: because I wanted to show you that when you said just now that you could tell me nothing you weren't being quite accurate. 'He wasn't', eh? So it was a man, was it? You know that, do you?"

"Oh—well—yes, I know that," she stammered. "At least, I suppose it was a man—"

He cut her short.

"Now listen, Miss Brady," he said. "You were at Schnitzer's place last night. I'm not asking you why you went there; that's of no importance. It's not the sort of trip I'd care for a sister of mine to make—"

"I went there to take down some correspondence," she interrupted. "I was Mr. Schnitzer's stenographer, and he 'phoned through to me and asked me to go round at once. If you don't believe me—"

"I do," he told her. "Schnitzer certainly did 'phone you; we've checked up that call."

"And if you hadn't checked up the call you wouldn't have believed me?"

He smiled faintly.

"I guess Mr. Smith would have believed you, Miss Brady, but Tricks O'Regan wouldn't. That's about the size of it, and just at the moment I'm Tricks O'Regan. Now, you were at Schnitzer's place last night when the shooting happened, and when you tell me you can't give me any information at all, as Tricks O'Regan I've got to ask you to think again. You must have seen something—"

"I saw nothing at all. I was in the next room when it happened, and I saw nothing until it was all over and I went in and found Mr. Schnitzer lying on the floor."

"And you didn't hear anything? All happened in dead silence, eh?"

"Oh, well—yes—of course I heard the bang," she admitted.

"Only just the bang? Nothing more? Nobody said anything?"

"Oh yes, I heard—after the bang—I heard their voices. They said something about getting away as quickly as possible—"

"Their voices? There was more than one of them, was there? We're getting along nicely. We know now that it was a man who did the killing, and that someone else was with him. How many others were there—one, two, three?"

"I tell you I don't know, Captain O'Regan. I didn't see them. I just heard voices—men's voices—"

"This fellow who did the killing," interrupted O'Regan calmly, "would he be a big sort of man?—heavily built, I mean?"

Josephine sprang to her feet.

"It's no use going on like this!" she exclaimed angrily. "I've told you I saw nobody, but you keep on asking me questions and trying to trip me up and make out I'm telling lies, and you're only wasting time."

"There's no need to take offence, Miss Brady," soothed O'Regan. "I'm just trying to help you remember, that's all. All right—you saw nobody. Now sit down again and tell me this: when you found Schnitzer lying on the floor, what did you do?"

She seated herself on the chair again.

"I fainted."

He nodded.

"I'm not doubting your word there, anyway. And then?"

She glanced nervously at the door. If only she could be sure that she could tell him the truth without anyone hearing, that as soon as she started telling it the door wouldn't open and...

"And then, Miss Brady?"

"Oh, I—of course, I came round. I don't know how long I was unconscious, but as soon as I came round I hurried away from Mr. Schnitzer's house."

"Hurried where?"

"Why, home. You see, I-I'd promised to meet a friend. He was to take me out for a car drive, and I was late already."

"I see," said O'Regan. "You didn't inform the police? It never occurred to you that when you knew Schnitzer had been murdered it might be as well to do that?"

"I was scared," she explained. "I didn't know exactly what I was doing. I'd had a dreadful shock, and I suppose I lost my head."

"But you remembered your appointment for the car drive. I see. And then?"

"I met my friend and he took me for a drive."

"Enjoy it? Beautiful night for a drive yesterday, wasn't it?"

"As a matter of fact, I didn't enjoy it at all," she told him. "We had a bit of a quarrel—in the car, I mean—and I—I insisted on getting out. It was rather silly, I suppose, because we were a long way from home and I might have had to walk back.... But you don't want to hear all that, do you? It has nothing to do with Mr. Schnitzer."

"And you had to walk home, did you?"

"Well—no. I was lucky enough to get a lift. A car came along and the driver stopped it and said he'd noticed me running—"

"Oh, running home, not walking? Any special hurry? But no doubt you'd remembered that Mr. Schnitzer had been murdered, and were in a hurry to get back and telephone to Police Headquarters like a good citizen. Why didn't you telephone? Or call? You must have known, Miss Brady, that when you found Schnitzer dead the first thing you should have done—"

"I tell you I didn't know what I was doing," she interrupted desperately. "I lost my head and had no idea what I was doing. Of course, I realize now that I ought to have done something about it, but can't you understand that when a girl has seen what I'd seen—"

"Heard," he corrected. "You saw nobody and nothing—"

"I'd seen Mr. Schnitzer," she said. "That's what I meant. I'd seen him lying dead on the floor. It was horrible—ghastly—you've no idea how I felt; and all I thought about was just getting out of that awful house as quickly as possible—"

"And keeping your appointment for a car drive. O.K., Miss Brady; we'll leave it at that for the moment. Sorry to have worried you, but I guess you understand that a police officer has his duty to do, and won't feel sore with me."

Josephine rose from her chair with alacrity.

"Why, of course not, Captain O'Regan," she smiled. "I quite understand. It can't be very pleasant for you either, having to question people like that and doubt everything they say."

"Not very pleasant for Mr. Smith, anyway."

She smiled. "And may I go now?"

"Sure. At least... Well, there's just one more point I'd like to know."

"Yes?"

"How well do you know Perryfeld?"

"Perryfeld?"

"The big fellow who was here just now and wanted to stay and hear a grilling."

"But I don't know—"

"He knows you, Miss Brady. He was talking to you here just before I opened the door and came in. I heard him."

"Yes—he was. But I don't know him—not really know him, I mean."

"But you've met him? Before today, I mean."

"Oh yes, I've seen him before," she admitted. "Just once or twice—at—at Mr. Schnitzer's office. He used to call there, you know, occasionally, and I spoke to him a few times."

He nodded. "Like him?"

"Do you think I'd like him, Captain O'Regan?"

He gave a shrug. "Was it Perryfeld who took you for the car-ride?"

She repressed a start and managed to smile.

"If Mr. Perryfeld invited me to go for a car ride," she said, "I'd be confined to bed with something catching."

"Not a friend, eh? Never met him outside of Schnitzer's office?"

"Never," she assured him; "and never want to." O'Regan rose and held out his hand.

"There's nothing wrong with your taste, anyway. Miss Brady," he said. "Good-bye!"

She took his hand and then crossed to the door.

"It's good-bye to Captain O'Regan, anyway, I hope," she said.

He opened the door. "And what about Mr. Smith?"

"Oh, just au revoir to Mr. Smith," she smiled, and went out.