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Updated: May 12, 2025
"Here!" he snapped, "send a taxi over to the park the bench opposite No. , and pick up a man with an old lady. She's unconscious." For an instant the light glinted on his metal badge as he threw back his coat. The starter nodded. Brencherly settled back again in his place with a sigh of relief.
"But," said Brencherly soothingly, "you don't want to get out now, you know. You've no reason to want to get out." She nodded, as if considering his statement seriously. "Of course, since I've got Victor out of the way, I don't much care. And I had awful trouble to steal enough money to get about with.
First of all his physician to him he must speak the truth, and to him alone. Brencherly should be his active tool. Mahr must be impressed. Springing from the motor at his own door, he snapped an order to his butler, and sent him with the cab to bring the doctor instantly. Once in the library, he telephoned for the detective.
I'll take Mrs. Marteen; stop somewhere and send a taxi back for you; it might look queer to see two of us with unconscious patients." When his subordinate turned to go, Brencherly leaned toward the drugged woman, took the bundle from her listless hands and rapidly examined its contents. A coarse nightdress, a black waist and a worn and ragged empty wallet rewarded his search.
"But," interposed Brencherly, "I found his wallet in your package." He took from his pocket a worn and battered leather pocketbook and held it toward her. "Oh," she answered indifferently, "I just took it for a souvenir. In fact, I came back for it last thing." Brencherly shrugged his shoulders expressively. Gard sat far back in his chair, his face in shadow. "How long has it been, Mrs.
Brencherly went to the telephone and spoke for a moment. "All right," he said; "they'll give you number seventy-three on this floor. I want you to do something for me to-morrow, so set the bellboy for eight o'clock, will you?" A moment later he turned his assistant over to the hotel roundsman, and turned to his own well earned rest.
"Jordan," he growled over the wire, "I want Brencherly up here right away. Is he there?....All right. I want some information he may be able to give me offhand. If not well, send him now." He hung up the receiver and paced the room, his eyes on the rug, his hands behind his back, disgusted and angry with his own anger and disgust.
With the last sip of the soothing beverage Brencherly closed his eyes peacefully. "Old man," he said, "this night's work is the best luck I've ever had. Now, tell me, did the lady say anything at any time? or did she remain as she is?" "She didn't say much. Grumbled a little at being moved around; in fact, I thought she was coming out of it for a minute when we first got her in here.
For them it's a good story, anyway such facts as these, for instance: he happened by in time to see an attack upon another woman on a bench opposite Mahr's house, and to hear her boast of her acts. But I ask as a personal favor that the scandal be avoided. Brencherly, tell what happened." The detective looked up. "There was an old story our office had had it that Mahr was a bigamist.
I'll tell you now, before your curiosity makes you make a fool of yourself she's been hunted for high and low, because she's had aphasia forgets who she is, and all that, every once in a while, and her people have been offering a reward. Just happened to make a double haul, that's all. But you don't get in on the first one. Now are you satisfied?" Brencherly looked at his companion quizzically.
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