Million-Dollar Suitcase , livre ebook

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134 pages

English

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pubOne.info thank you for your continued support and wish to present you this new edition. On the blank silence that followed my last words, there in the big, dignified room with its Circassian walnut and sound-softening rugs, Dykeman, the oldest director, squalled out as though he had been bitten, All there is to tell! But it can't be! It isn't possib - His voice cracked, split on the word, and the rest came in an agonized squeak, A man can't just vanish into thin air! A man! Knapp, the cashier, echoed. A suitcase full of money - our money - can't vanish into thin air in the course of a few hours.

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Publié par	Pub One Info
Date de parution	23 octobre 2010
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9782819916277
Langue	English

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CHAPTER I
WORTH GILBERT
On the blank silence that followed my last words,there in the big, dignified room with its Circassian walnut andsound-softening rugs, Dykeman, the oldest director, squalled out asthough he had been bitten, "All there is to tell! But it can't be!It isn't possib – " His voice cracked, split on the word, and therest came in an agonized squeak, "A man can't just vanish into thinair!" "A man!" Knapp, the cashier, echoed. "A suitcase full ofmoney – our money – can't vanish into thin air in the course of afew hours."
Feverishly they passed the timeworn phrase back andforth; it would have been ludicrous if it hadn't been so deadlyserious. Well, money when you come to think of it, is its veryexistence to such an institution; it was not to be wondered at thatthe twelve men around the long table in the directors' room of theVan Ness Avenue Savings Bank found this a life or death matter."How much – ?" began heavy-set, heavy-voiced old Anson, down at thelower end, but stuck and got no further. There was a smitten lookon every face at the contemplation – a suitcase could hold sounguessably great a sum expressed in terms of cash and securities."We'll have the exact amount in a few moments – I've just set themto verifying," President Whipple indicated with a slight backwardnod the second and smaller table in the room, where two clerksdelved mole-like among piles of securities, among greenbacks andyellowbacks bound round with paper collars, and stacks of coin.
The blinds were down, only the table lamps on, and agooseneck over where the men counted. It put the place all inshadow, and threw out into bolder relief the faces around thatboard, gray-white, denatured, all with the financier's curiouslyunhuman look. The one fairly cheerful countenance in sight was thatof A. G. Cummings, the bank's attorney.
For myself, I was only waiting to hear what resultsthose clerks would bring us. So far, Whipple had been quitenoncommittal: the extraordinary state of the market – everything soupset that a bank couldn't afford even the suspicion of a loss orirregularity – hinting at something in his mind not evident to therest of us. I was just rising to go round and ask him quietly if,having reported, I might not be excused to get on the actual work,when the door opened.
I can't say why the young fellow who stood in itshould have seemed so foreign to the business in hand; perhaps thecarriage of his tall figure, the military abruptness of hismovements, the way he swung the door far back against the wall andhalted there, looking us over. But I do know that no sooner hadWorth Gilbert, lately home from France, crossed the threshold,meeting Whipple's outstretched hand, nodding carelessly to theothers, than suddenly every man in the room seemed older, less aman. We were dead ones; he the only live wire in the place."Boyne," the president turned quickly to me, "would you mind goingover for Captain Gilbert's benefit what you've just said?"
The newcomer had, so far, not made any movement tojoin the circle at the table. He stood there, chin up, lookingstraight at us all, but quite through us. At the back of the gazewas a something between weary and fierce that I have noticed in theeyes of so many of our boys home from what they'd witnessed andgone through over there, when forced to bring their attention tothe stale, bloodless affairs of civil life. Used to the instant,conclusive fortunes of war, they can hardly handle themselves whenmatters hitch and halt upon customs and legalities; the only thingthat appeals to them is the big chance, win or lose, and have itover. Such a man doesn't speak the language of the group that wasthere gathered. Just looking at him, old Dykeman rasped, withoutfurther provocation, "What's Captain Gilbert got to do with theprivate concerns of this bank?"
As though the words – and their tone – had been acordial invitation, rather than an offensive challenge, the youngman, who had still shown no sign of an intention to come into themeeting at all, walked to the table, drew out a chair and sat down."Pardon me, Mr. Dykeman," Cummings' voice had a wire edge on it,"the Hanford block of stock in this bank has, as I think you verywell know, passed fully into Gilbert hands to-day." "Thomas A.Gilbert," Dykeman was sparing of words. "Captain Worth Gilbert'sfather," Whipple attempted pacification. "Mr. Gilbert senior waswith me till nearly noon, closing up the transfer. He had hardlyleft when we discovered the shortage. After consultation, Knapp andI got hold of Cummings. We wanted to get you gentlemen here – havethe capital of the bank represented, as nearly as we could – andfound that Mr. Gilbert had taken the twelve-forty-five train forSanta Ysobel; so, as Captain Gilbert was to be found, we felt thatif we got him it would be practically – er – quite the same thing –"
Worth Gilbert had sat in the chair he selected,absolutely indifferent. It was only when Dykeman, hanging to hispoint, spoke again, that I saw a quick gleam of blue fire come intothose hawk eyes under the slant brow. He gave a sort of detachedattention as Dykeman sputtered indecently. "Not the same thing atall! Sons can't always speak for fathers, any more than fathers canalways speak for sons. In this case – "
He broke off with his ugly old mouth open. WorthGilbert, the son of divorced parents, with a childhood that haddivided time between a mother in the East and a California father,surveyed the parchment-like countenance leisurely after thecrackling old voice was hushed. Finally he grunted inarticulately(I'm sorry I can't find a more imposing word for a returned hero);and answered all objections with, "I'm here now – and here I stay.What's the excitement?" "I was just asking Mr. Boyne to tell you,"Whipple came in smoothly.
No one else offered any objections. What I repeated,briefly, amounted to this:
Directly after closing time to-day – which was noon,as this was Saturday – Knapp, the cashier of the bank, haddiscovered a heavy shortage, and it was decided on a quickinvestigation that Edward Clayte, one of the paying tellers, hadwalked out with the money in a suitcase. I was immediately calledin on what appeared a wide-open trail, with me so close behindClayte that you'd have said there was nothing to it. I followed him– and the suitcase – to his apartment at the St. Dunstan, foundhe'd got there at twenty-five minutes to one, and I barely threequarters of an hour after. "How do you get the exact minute Claytearrived?" Anson stopped me at this point, "and the positiveknowledge that he had the suitcase with him?" "Clayte asked thetime – from the clerk at the desk – as he came in. He put thesuitcase down while he set his watch. The clerk saw him pick it upand go into the elevator; Mrs. Griggsby, a woman at work mendingcarpet on the seventh floor – which is his – saw him come out ofthe elevator carrying it, and let himself into his room. There thetrail ends." "Ends?" As my voice halted young Gilbert's word camelike a bullet. "The trail can't end unless the man was there." "Orthe suitcase," little old Sillsbee quavered, and Worth Gilbert gavehim a swift, half-humorous glance. "Bath and bedroom," I said,"that suite has three windows, seven stories above the ground. Ifound them all locked – not mere latches – the St. Dunstan hasburglar-proof locks. No disturbance in the room; all neat, inplace, the door closed with the usual spring lock; and I had to getMrs. Griggsby to move, since she was tacking the carpet right atthe threshold. Everything was in that room that should have beenthere – except Clayte and the suitcase."
The babel of complaint and suggestion broke out as Ifinished, exactly as it had done when I got to this point before:"The Griggsby woman ought to be kept under surveillance"; "Theclerk, the house servants ought to be watched," – and so on, and soon. I curtly reiterated my assurance that such routine matters hadbeen promptly and thoroughly attended to. My nerves were gettingraw. I'm not so young as I was. This promised to be one of thosegrinding cases where the detective agency is run through therollers so many times that it comes out pretty slim in the end,whether that end is failure or success.
The only thing in sight that it didn't make me sickto look at was that silent young fellow sitting there, neveropening his trap, giving things a chance to develop, not rushing inon them with the forceps. It was a crazy thing for Whipple to callthis meeting – have all these old, scared men on my back before Icould take the measure of what I was up against. What, exactly, hadthe Van Ness Avenue Bank lost? That, and not anything else, was thekey for my first moves. And at last a clerk crossed to our table,touched Whipple's arm and presented a sheet of paper. "I'll readthe total, gentlemen." The president stared at the sheet he held,moistened his lips, gulped, gasped, "I – I'd no idea it was somuch!" and finished in a changed voice, "nine hundred and eightyseven thousand, two hundred and thirty four dollars."
A deathlike hush. Dykeman's mere look was a call forthe ambulance; Anson slumped in his chair; little old Sillsbee sattwisted away so that his face was in shadow, but the knucklesshowed bone white where his hand gripped the table top. None ofthem seemed able to speak; the young voice that broke startlinglyon the stillness had the effect of scaring the others, with itstone of nonchalance, rather than reassuring them. Worth Gilbertleaned forward and looked round in my direction with, "This isbeginning to be interesting. What do the police say of it?" "We'venot thought well to notify them yet." Whipple's eye consulted thatof his cashier and he broke off. Quietly the clerks got out withthe last load of securities; Knapp closed the door carefully behindthem, and as he returned to us, Whipple repeated, "I had no idea itwas so big," his tone almost pleading as he looked from one to theother. "But I felt from the first that we'd