The Apartment Next Door - William Andrew Johnston (top 10 novels to read .TXT) 📗
- Author: William Andrew Johnston
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"It's the young man I'm after," said Chief Fleck. "We have the goods on old Hoff, but we have nothing incriminating against Frederic yet. The very fact that he holds aloof from his uncle's activities makes me think he is engaged in more important work. He's just the type the Germans would select as a director."
"That's right," said Carter despondently. "There's nothing except the fact that Dean and the girl think they saw him in British uniform. Why didn't they follow and make sure?"
"They tried to," said the chief, "but he gave them the slip. I'm inclined to believe they were mistaken. More than likely it was a chance resemblance. Lots of Britishers of the Anglo-Saxon strain look much like Germans, and a uniform makes a big difference in a man's appearance. I'm afraid there's nothing in that."
"But both saw the man--Dean and Miss Strong," protested Carter.
"The trouble is," observed Fleck, "that Dean is getting infatuated with the girl. A young man in love is not a keen observer. Anything she thinks she has seen he'll be ready to swear to. I hope the girl keeps her head. Lovers don't make good detectives."
"I have watched them together," said Carter. "I'll admit he's struck on her, but I don't think she cares a rap for him. She's too keenly interested in Frederic Hoff."
"What do you mean by that?" asked the chief sharply.
"You can depend on her all right. She's patriotic through and through. She's the kind that would do her duty, no matter what it cost her. All I meant is that Hoff's the type that interests women. He's got a way about him. The fact that he's a spy, in peril most of the time, gives him a sort of halo. I never knew a daring young criminal yet that didn't have some woman, and often several of them, ready to go the limit for him. All the same, I'm sure we can trust Miss Strong."
"We've got to," growled Fleck, "for the present at any rate. Is everything fixed for the search this afternoon? What have you done to get the superintendent out of the way? He's not to be trusted. His name is Hauser."
"I've got him fixed. Jimmy Golden, my nephew, who has helped us in a couple of cases, is a lawyer. He has telephoned to Hauser to come to his office this afternoon."
"Suppose he doesn't go?"
"He'll go all right. Jimmy 'phoned him that it was about a legacy. That's sure bait. Jimmy will make Hauser wait an hour, then keep him talking half an hour longer. That will give us plenty of time."
"Then there's the woman--the servant, Lena Kraus."
"She goes to the roof every Wednesday while the Hoffs are away to signal. Other days they apparently do the signalling themselves in some way we haven't caught on to yet. She always goes up about three o'clock and--"
"Suppose she comes down unexpectedly and catches you? We can't have that happen. That would put them on their guard."
"She won't surprise us. I've got a trick up my sleeve for preventing that."
"Go to it, then," said the chief, and Carter went on his way rejoicing.
Ever since he had been informed that the search of the Hoffs' apartment was to be intrusted to him Carter had been in a state of exuberant delight. He fairly revelled in jobs that required a disguise and he welcomed the opportunity it gave him and his assistants to don the uniform of employees of the electric light company. He even made a point of arriving that afternoon at the apartment house in the company's repair wagon, the vehicle having been procured through Fleck's assistance.
"There's a dangerous short circuit somewhere in the house," he announced to the superintendent's wife.
"My husband isn't here," she answered unsuspectingly. "Do you know where the switch-boards are?"
"We can find them," said Carter. "We'll start at the top floor and work down."
Always thorough in his methods of camouflage he actually did go through several apartments, making a pretense of inspecting switch-boards and wiring, all the while keeping watch for the time when old Lena went to the roof. The moment she had entered the elevator to ascend with her basket of linen, Carter and his aides were at the Hoff door. Equipped with the key Dean had manufactured they had no difficulty in entering.
"Bob," said Carter to one of his men, "we haven't much time, and there's a lot to be done. You take the servant's room and the kitchen, and you, Williams, take the old man's quarters. I'll take care of the young man's bedroom, and we'll tackle the living room and dining room later."
Thoroughly experienced in this sort of work all three of them set at once to their tasks. Carter, standing for a moment in the doorway, surveyed Frederic Hoff's quarters, taking in all the details of the furnishings. Both the sitting room and the bedroom adjoining were equipped in military simplicity, with hardly an extra article of furniture or adornment, chairs, tables, everything of the plainest sort. Moving first into the bedroom, Carter quickly investigated pillows and mattress, but in neither place did he find what he sought, evidence of a secret hiding place. He rummaged for a while through the drawers of two tables, carefully restoring the contents, but discovering nothing that aroused his suspicions. The books lying about on the tables and on shelves he examined one by one, noting their titles, examining their bindings for hidden pockets, holding them up by their backs and shaking the leaves. There was nothing there. Lifting the rugs and moving the furniture about he made a careful survey of the flooring, seeking to find some panel that might conceal a hiding place. Once or twice in corners he went so far as to make soundings but apparently the whole floor was intact. His search in the bath room was equally profitless, and at last he turned to the clothes press. As he opened the door an exclamation of amazement burst from his lips.
There, concealed behind some other suits, was the complete outfit of a British cavalry captain.
"That's one on the Chief," he said to himself. "It must have been Hoff that Dean and Miss Strong saw. I wonder where he got it?"
With a grim smile of satisfaction he devoted himself to going carefully through all the pockets and over all the seams of the clothing in the closet. He even felt into the toe of the shoes and examined the soles. There was nothing to be found anywhere, but he felt satisfied. The uniform in itself was to his mind damning proof of the young man's occupation.
No explanation that could be given by a young man of German name, even though he was American-born, or had an American birth certificate, could possibly account for his having a British uniform. It was prima facie evidence that Frederic Hoff was a spy. What puzzled Carter most was how Hoff managed to smuggle the uniform in and out of the apartment without being observed. For more than two weeks now every parcel that had arrived at the house of the Hoffs had been searched before it was delivered. The house had been constantly under the strictest surveillance. It was out of the question for him to have worn the uniform in or out as it could not be easily concealed under other clothing.
"There's somebody else in this place in league with the Hoffs," he muttered to himself. "I wonder who it can be."
He looked at his watch. The old servant had been out now nearly half an hour. She was likely to return at any moment. He must work quickly. Swiftly he went through the dresser drawers but without satisfactory result. There was no time for him to do more. He hastened into the living room and summoned his aides.
"Find anything, Bob?" he asked.
"Not a thing."
"Beat it up to the roof," he directed. "Have you those field glasses with you?"
"Sure," replied the operative, "and the handkerchiefs, too."
"All right. Get up there before she starts down. Begin putting up handkerchiefs and appear to be watching the river. That will mix her up so she will not know what to do. She will not dare to leave the roof while you are there. When we're through I'll send the elevator man up for you with the message that we have found the short circuit."
He turned to the other operative.
"Find anything, Williams?"
"Only this."
Carter's face brightened as his assistant held out to him two copies of an afternoon newspaper. In each of them a square was missing where something had been cut out.
"I found them in the waste-paper basket by the old man's desk," the man explained, "and there was some ashes there--ashes of paper--as if he had burned up something. Maybe it was what he cut out of those papers. I could not tell."
"We've got to get copies of those papers at once and see what it was. Come on, I'm going to take them to the Chief. We can get the papers on the way down."
Calling the other operative from the roof, before he even had had time to attract the attention of Lena Kraus by his activities, they hastened back to the office, where Fleck and Carter together scanned the two papers from which the clippings had been taken.
"Why," said Carter disappointedly, "it is just a couple of advertisements he cut out--advertisements for a tooth paste. There's nothing in that."
"Don't be too sure," warned Fleck. "If a man cuts out one tooth-paste advertisement, the natural presumption would be that he wished to remind himself to buy some. When he cuts out two, he must have some special interest in that particular tooth paste. We'll have to find out what his interest is."
"Maybe he owns it," suggested Carter.
"Perhaps," said Fleck, as he began studying the advertisements, "but it would not surprise me if these advertisements contained some sort of code messages."
"Messages in advertisements," exclaimed Carter incredulously.
"Why not? The Germans have hundreds of spies at work here in this city and all over the country. What would be an easier method of communicating orders to them than by code messages concealed in advertising. They have done it before. When the German armies got into France they found their way placarded in advance with much useful information in harmless looking posters advertising a certain brand of chocolate. I'd be willing to bet that every one of these advertisements carries a code message. I've noticed that these advertisements, all peculiarly worded, have been running for some time. I never thought of hooking them up with German propaganda, but, see, it is a German firm that inserts them."
Carefully he cut out the two advertisements and laid them side by side on his desk. Turning to Carter he said:
"Go at once to see Mr. Sprague, the publisher of this paper. Get him to give you a copy of each paper that has contained an advertisement of this sort in the last six months. Find out what agency places the advertising. Tell him I want to know. He'll understand. We have worked together before."
Alone in his office, Fleck bent with wrinkled brow over the first of the two advertisements, which read:
REMEMBERPlease, that our new paste, DENTO,
will stop decay of your teeth. Sound
teeth are passports to good health and
comfort. Now, no business man can
risk ill health. It is closely allied with
failure. The teeth if not watched are
quickly gone.
USE DENTO
A genuine, safe, pleasing paste for the
teeth, prepared and sold only by the
Auer Dental Company, New York.
He tried all the methods of solving cipher letters that he thought of. He drew diagonals this way and that across the advertisement. He tried reading it backward.
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