For a long moment Flint stood silent, regarding Merlini with cold appraisal. Finally he said, “I could take you into the station and sweat it out of you.”
“And we’d lose our chance that way too,” Merlini answered. “You’ll get what you want a lot quicker my way. You can’t lose. If my plan works, you get the murderer and the evidence you need. If it doesn’t, I’ll tell you who I phoned and you can take it from there any way you like.”
Flint hesitated again. Then, suddenly, he made up his mind. “Okay,” he said. “Sergeant, put a pair of cuffs on him.”
Merlini blinked. “What do you mean, ‘Okay, put a pair of cuffs—’”
“I’m playing it your way because there’s something I want to know. But it’ll look damned funny if we pull out of here without a good reason. Since you’re so stubborn, you can be it.” He turned to Lovejoy. “Handcuff him, take him out through the living-room so those others get a look. I’ll tell ’em the case is solved and we’ve made an arrest.”
“But the murderer,” I objected, “the one person you want to fool, will know that’s not so.”
“So what? Murderers all think cops are dumb as hell. That’s why we catch so many. This one’ll think I’ve made a mistake.”
Lovejoy clicked one steel circle of the handcuff around Merlini’s wrist, the other about his own, as Flint added, “Take him right through to the hall. Tell Tucker to get outside, put a man in each of the police cars, and tip off the rest of the boys to stay under cover. Have Ryan stand by the front door. When I come out and we start up the stairs he’s to slam the front door so it sounds as if we’ve gone out. Right after, the cars drive off, the boys park them down the drive out of sight, and come back on the q.t. Got that?”
“Yes sir.”
Flint crossed the room to the living-room door. He looked back at me. “You stick with them and don’t stop to look in any shop windows. Ready?”
We all nodded. Flint opened the door. We heard the conversation in the room outside the away. Lovejoy and Merlini went in and I followed closely. We turned left and moved quickly toward the door to the hall. We had covered half the distance before any of the group around the fireplace spoke.
Then Kay’s voice came. “Ross, wait!” I looked back and saw Flint step in front of her as she started toward me. I looked back and saw Flint step in front of her as she started toward me.
“Just a minute, Miss Wolff,” he said. “You can talk to him later. I’ve got something to say.”
She wasn’t to be stopped that easily. She started to move around him.
I called back, “Kay, do as he says. He’s making the bonehead play of the year. But they haven’t built the jail yet that will hold Merlini. Wait here and sit tight. We’ll be back.”
I hurried after Lovejoy and Merlini, leaving Flint to fight the rest of the rear-guard action. I heard him begin to talk as I closed the door.
Then we hit the first snag. Tucker and Ryan, worried looks on their faces, hurried toward us from the rear of the hallway.
Tucker asked, “Where’s the lieutenant? I’ve got to see him.”
“Later,” Lovejoy replied. “This is rush,” He gave them their orders rapidly.
As he finished Merlini said, “Leonard’s not with the others in the living-room. Is that what’s bothering you, Tucker?”
The fingerprint man nodded. “Yes. The lieutenant told me to round everybody up. We can’t find him.”
Merlini frowned. “That’s awkward, but it’ll have to wait. Flint will be out here in a moment. We’ll tell him. Get going.”
The sergeant seconded the motion and they left, Tucker going out and Ryan taking up his position at the front door.
As we hurried up the stairs Lovejoy said, “I don’t like this. If you ask me, Leonard’s the guy we’re after. A chauffeur’s just the kind of guy who’d figure out a stunt like that dry ice in the car — Hey!”
His exclamation arose from the fact that he had just noticed that Merlini was ascending the stairs several feet ahead of him. Lovejoy lifted his wrist and stared at the open cuff that dangled from it.
Down below, Flint stepped through the living-room door, closed it behind him, and ran for the stairs. As he hurried up he asked, “Lovejoy, where the hell is Leonard? He’s not in there with the others.” Then, at the stairs’ top, he turned and signaled Ryan. The latter went out, slamming the front door behind him.
The sergeant said, “I don’t know. Tucker couldn’t find—”
Merlini, who had reached the study door and pushed it open, said, “Here he is, Lieutenant!”
The window across the room was partly open. The chauffeur stood before it, facing us. A heavy glass inkwell which he had snatched up from the desk was in his hand.
Flint’s gun came out. “Drop it!” he commanded.
“Okay.” Leonard replaced it on the desk. “Take it easy. You should knock before you—”
Merlini cut in quickly, “Sergeant, close that door. All of you keep your voices down.’’
Flint moved toward the chauffeur. “Merlini, is this the guy you phoned?”
Merlini sat down at Wolff’s desk. “No. It isn’t.”
Leonard said, “I guess this is where I talk.” He sat on the edge of the desk, lifted his foot, and slipped off his shoe. From it he took a small white card which he handed to Flint.
“I didn’t want you to find that when you frisked everybody this morning,” he said.
The lieutenant took it and read: Leonard Doran, Doran Detective Agency, 3414 Broadway. So that’s why I have trouble checking back on you. Who hired you?”
“Wolff. He wanted a bodyguard. He got threatening letters every now and then from crackpots. He didn’t act it, but he scared easy and I—”
“Why’d you hold out on me?”
“Well, business hasn’t been so hot lately. When Wolff gets shot I figure if I can crack the case on my own the publicity’ll do the agency some good. Maybe Mrs. Wolff will pay—”
“Business,” Flint cut in, “is going to be lousy. You won’t have a license starting tomorrow.”
Doran shook his head. “I wouldn’t do that, Lieutenant. You see, I know who the murderer is. And if you play ball with me—”
“Play ball hell! What do you know? Spill it fast!”
“Okay, Lieutenant, okay. Take it easy. It’s the secretary, Dunning. He’s the guy who was trying to blackmail Wolff. He’s the guy who loaded that car heater with dry ice. Stopping in at my room to bum a cigarette was just a gag to make sure I was out of the way. Then he goes in the garage and plants the ice in the car. But his pal Smith doesn’t go in for such fancy methods. He shows, knocks Dunning out, and—”
Flint’s voice was ominous. “How do you know anything about a traffic smash — or about dry ice?”
As Doran answered, I saw Merlini quietly remove the receiver from the desk phone and press his forefinger against one of the buttons on its base.
“I got an earful,” Doran said, “downstairs at the kitchen door just now. When I heard what I did, I figured Dunning for the job. Then I came up here to have a look around and dope out how he shot—”
Merlini cut in suddenly. “Quiet a moment, please.”
His voice as he spoke into the phone was low, rapid, and almost completely muffled by the hand he held cupped around the mouthpiece. The only words I could distinguish were “in the study” and “tell the police who killed—”
He hung up just as Flint jumped toward him. “Now,” he said, “keep quiet and watch that door!”