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The accused man sank back in his chair. The gray immobility of his face had broken up. The features worked curiously, forming themselves for a second to a pattern of mean vindictiveness. His right hand still numbed by the blow, he took his handkerchief with the left and flicked from his neck, close to the ear, a single red bead. "Search him," Braceway ordered one of the officers.
"All right. This is Bristow. Read it to me." "Message is dated today, Washington, D. C. 'Mr. Lawrence Bristow, nine Manniston Road, Furmville, N. C. See Encyclopaedia Britannica, volume one, page five hundred and six, second column, line fifteen to line seventeen, and page five hundred and seven, second column, line seventeen to line twenty-three. Signed 'S. S. Braceway, Do you get that?" "No!
Is that it?" "I ain' thought nothin' 'bout it, boss. I knowed it." "What did you think about his shaving off the beard at that time in the morning?" Braceway urged, fingering the dollar bill. "Didn't you think it was queer?" "I tryin' to tell you, suh, I ain' done no thinkin' 'bout dat. He done said I wuz talkin' in my sleep, an' I is a prudent nigger." "Did he have a gold tooth, Roddy?"
He unlocked the door, went back into the room, and put down his cane, leaning it against the wall near the bureau. He reached the lobby in time to hear a callboy paging him. There was a telegram for him. It read: "Mr. S. S. Braceway, Willard Hotel, Washington, D. C. "Here. "What the devil does he mean?" he asked himself several times. "What's this 'here' about?"
Was Withers in Baltimore at two-thirty Friday afternoon? Could he have been fool enough to pawn anything? Or did he go there in the hope of incriminating Morley further? All these things were within the realm of possibility, but hardly credible. Braceway might have known of them, and he might not.
Bristow received them in his living room, the table still littered with newspaper clippings on the Loutois kidnapping. "If the rest of you don't mind," Braceway suggested, "we'd better close the windows. We've a lot of talking to do, and we might as well keep things to ourselves." The effect of alertness which he always produced was more evident now than ever.
"One of the one of my employés a thief and a murderer!" Mr. Beale pushed back his chair and fell to patting his knees with his fists. "Great God, Mr. " He looked at the card again. "Why, Mr. Braceway, I can't believe it. It would be treason to this bank, treason to all its traditions!" He had not suffered such an attack of garrulity for the past twenty years. "And Morley, his family, his birth!
Nothing not a snap of the finger! To hell with what they say! What I want is vengeance. I'll have it! Call Braceway off? Not while there's breath in me!" He paused and bit on his lip. "Understand me, Mr. Bristow," he continued, his tone more moderate. "I meant no criticism of you; I know how faithfully you've worked. I realize even that you have proved your case. But I can't accept it, that's all.
Would he see that her course was one which she intended to be of help to him? that, not knowing how he would treat a direct message from her, she had sent it to him through another? that she desired, above all things, his success in the investigation? "When I spoke to this man of Sam Braceway, my whole manner was a revelation of how I felt a frank declaration! And, of course, he will tell him.
Carey called me to take the case as soon as he had seen Mr. Bristow. "I think that's all. Of course, the bed that was in here and all the other soiled things had been removed by the time I came in; and the management insisted on his taking the extra room." "Thank you," said Braceway. "I'm glad to get the details. You'll see that he has everything he needs, won't you?"
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