Henry Leverage

“ The driver swung into the seat, raced the engine, and clicked through the speeds. The taxi darted up Fifth Avenue. It gained Fifty-ninth Street and turned into the Park. It swung the dark curves on its swift passage uptown.
Fay’s fingers groped along the seat and clasped an automatic. “Get the other!” he said into Rake’s ear. “You, Yeader, take the hatchet and pry at the bottom of the door. I’ve got my hand over the suction pipe. We wont be suffocated.” ”

“ I’m a Western newspaper man—come from Chicago. Suppose you tell me all about the Gray Taxi Company. How many taxies are there? Who’s the originator? How’s business? Do you cover the steamship docks?”
“Say! On the dead, you’ve got nerve. I’m going to call the first traffic cop I meet. There’s one!”
Fay reached into his right-hand trouser pocket. His hand appeared with a five-dollar bill between his fingers.
“I’ll bet you this you don’t,” he said, pressing the bill into the driver’s lap. “Take it and buy a good dinner. There’s another coming to you if you answer my questions.” ”

“ You impersonated Elsie De Groot!”
The leader of the drivers who had arrived in the second taxi ran across the courtyard, paused, and stared at Fay’s prisoner. She turned with her eyes sweeping the windows of the silent house. She came over the grass.
“Just in time, Miss Elsie!” said Fay. “You got a man up the road. Who was he?”
“A crook! And this is—”
“This is one of your mechanics. He resembles you. He must have had access to your desk. He impersonated you by putting on a wig after you set Stephney down on Fifth Avenue. He was Ponsardin’s tool. ”

“ Fay turned and stared into the broad Irish face of the ex-convict he had expected to meet.
“Ah, Rake—on time!”
“Sure, Chester! I was just watchin’ you and that wild-looking driver. They’re gettin’ all the high-class business.”
“Come on! Follow me and keep your eyes open. We’re going to look a little lady over. Miss Elsie, the manager, is under suspicion.”
Fay led the way along the sidewalk and threaded his steps through a group of young men outside the Gray Taxi Garage. He eyed each one for possible red hair and turned-up nose. ”

“ Fay saluted a man on guard, showed his authority from the Customhouse, and received permission to enter the telegraph station.
He turned on the steps and glanced down at Yeader and Rake.
“Stay here!” he said. “Hold the bag. I’m going up and find out when the Imparada comes in. Also, I shall send a wireless message to the manager of the Gray Taxi Company.”
Rake started. He frowned in perplexity. “How can you do that, Chester?”
“I’ve got authority to do most anything. I want a Gray taxi to meet us when we dock with the Imparada. ”

“ I want to trace a man who took a Gray taxi. The man is—”
“Putney Steph—Stephney.”
“Yes.” Fay raised his brows. The matter was evidently out.
“Has he been found?”
Fay shook his head. He recalled that Sir Arthur Hilton had not given instructions to make public the matter of the finding of the body on the railroad train at Poughkeepsie.
“Not found yet, eh?” Gardner said. “Well, I did all I could. Come over here. That’s right. Now we can talk. That British team are listening-in.” ”

“ It was a long ten minutes before Fay emerged with his teeth clamping a slender Perfecto. He passed one to Rake.
“Smoke up!” he said. “It’s on the British representatives. I’ve got a good lead from Arthur Hilton. It’s one I overlooked in my haste this morning. I think we get our people tonight!”
“What people, Chester?”
“The crooks who killed Stephney. They were after bigger game. The others of Stephney’s suite are due on the Imparada. Hilton tells me privately that she has been sighted from Sandy Hook.” ”

“ Please call me up if you discover anything. Ask those two drivers whom you didn’t question. Help us in every way. This murder is an international matter. Keep thinking about what happened last night. We must find the murderer!”
Fay laid the card on the desk, bowed slightly toward the silent girl, nodded to the stenographer, and joined Rake in the run-way of the garage.
The big ex-convict was staring at the group of drivers who were awaiting assignments. He smiled broadly as he felt Fay’s hand on his shoulder. ”

“ The street resounded with the shouts of urchins playing ball. A truck went by as Fay paused and clicked keys in his pocket.
He glanced up at Rake.
“We’ll have to cover the Hudson River homes,” he said. “Looks to me as if the body was being taken over the railroad track when it was thrown on top of a freight-car. Who is investigating Poughkeepsie and the routing of the train?”
“O’Toole an’ Flynn went north, Chester.”
Fay dragged out his watch and studied the dial. “It’s too early yet for them to report. It’s too—”
He stared open-mouthed toward the Avenue ahead of him. ”

“ Fay frowned. “It’s the people’s business! It’s Charles Mott’s business. Are you going to help me?”
“I never talk to strangers. You may be Mr. Mott’s representative. You may be connected with the Gray Brotherhood. How do I know?”
“You know what happened to your fare last night?”
The girl swung in the chair and glanced at Rake. Her eyes opened to brown pools of protest. She brought both feet down on the rug and rose with her hand on the back of the chair.
“You both better go.”
“Just a minute. You know Putney Stephney?” ”

“ Fay left the Government operative and darted for a telephone booth. Into the slot of this he dropped a nickel and obtained, after a brief wait, Mr. George Mott’s secretary.
“This is Chester Fay!” he said briskly. “Say, get about ten of the Gray Brotherhood rounded up right away and cover these assignments. Got it?” he added, drawing the door shut with caution. “Yes—yes! They’ll do. Cover Poughkeepsie and a corpse found there this morning on top of a New York Central freight-car. Cover the morgue. Have them see the Army surgeon who made the autopsy on the lungs. ”

“ He could get a cab an’ turn the trick.”
“But the mysterious way of suffocating a man?”
The ex-convict scratched his head.
“That’s different,” he admitted. “O’Toole, Flynn, Fogarty, Harris an’ Johnson—they ought to discover something, Chester. Harrigan, Mr. Mott’s man, sent them running after you telephoned. He’s called on the Harlem Branch for three more of the Brotherhood to cover the case. You’ve got nine or ten boys out now.”
“Hardly enough. We’ll get more! Suppose we walk west for a block or two. I want to think this puzzle over.”
Rake fell in behind Fay. ”

“ Mott’s interest in ex-convicts and the Gray Brotherhood.”
“Oh, I’ll take it. I’ll jump! I want all the facts you can allow me to have.”
“I’ve given you everything. The body found at Poughkeepsie on top of the goods-train was Stephney’s. There’s no doubt of that. He was first identified by the tailor’s name in his pockets—Concre, of London, I think. We’ve a solicitor up there who made a complete identification.” ”

“ Was seen by two of the steamship company’s detectives who were watching all embarking passengers.”
“Was that the Carpathia?” asked Fay.
“Yes—the Carpathia! Stephney came down the gangplank, turned at the customroom, went inside a telephone booth, came out and was observed taking a gray taxi at the foot of the dock. That was the last seen of him until the chief of the railroad detectives at Poughkeepsie found his body on top of a goods-train. Skull was slightly crushed. Pockets rifled. Portfolio, with banknotes and memoranda, missing.”
“Quick work!” ”

“ What did you do with him? The truth, and nothing but the truth. It’s bound to come out!”
“See here!” The girl braced her shoulders and stared back defiantly. “See here!” she flashed with sudden anger. ”

“ This Commission, of which Stephney was a member, came on different steamers on account of a secret matter pertaining to pending treaties. These two members will dock sometime tonight.”
“At the same pier, Chester?”
“At the Southampton Pier.”
“That looks like business. We’ll be there, eh?”
“Right there! We’ll meet the bankers at Quarantine, substitute ourselves for them, and land, all regular and proper, at the Southampton dock. I notified Harrigan, at Mr. Mott’s office, to get our outfits. They’ll be waiting for us with a valet at the Battery. ”