“Please,” she said imploringly, “you can hide in the closet. Then tonight I’ll help you slip out.”
Oscar removed his arm from her grasp.
“I don’t know what’s come over you, Miss Brown,” he gasped. He stared into her anxious, worried eyes and shook his head. “You’re talking nonsense. I think you had better take the rest of the day off and rest.”
“But you’ve got to listen to me,” Miss Brown said pleadingly. There were tears of concern in her eyes and her pretty face was clouded with worry. “There’s no time to waste. They’ll be here any minute.”
“Who will be here any minute?” Oscar demanded. “And why should I hide in the closet because some person or persons unknown are visiting me in my office? I have done nothing wrong, I don’t need to hide from anyone.”
The door had opened as he was speaking and when he finished a hard, cold voice said, “It wouldn’t have done you any good to hide, Doodle, the game is up.”
Miss Brown turned on slim ankles as three heavy-set men walked heavily into the office.
“I tried to tell you,” she wailed, turning back to Oscar.
Oscar stared at the three men with dazed, uncomprehending eyes.
“What’s all this about?” he asked. “Don’t pull the innocent act,” one of the men said sarcastically. He flipped his coat lapel aside, displaying a gleaming police shield. “I’m Higgins from Central. We want to have a little chat with you down at the station. Get your coat.”
Oscar sat down heavily. He felt as if he had been struck at the base of the skull with a stuffed eel skin.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said weakly.
“You will soon, then,” Higgins said. “Forty thousand bucks was stolen from here last night and we’ve got three witnesses from the bank who say you’re the man who pulled the job.”
Comprehension dawned on Oscar and he felt his mouth going dry. A cold hand of terror was closing over his heart. His twin, his pilfering ancestor, who had impersonated him yesterday, had stolen forty thousand dollars from the bank. And the police thought that he was the one who had committed the robbery.
He stared wildly at the grim faces of the three policemen.
“No, no,” he cried hysterically, “you’ve got it all wrong. I didn’t steal the money. It was someone who looked like me. I’m innocent.”
“You’ll be given a chance to prove it,” Higgins said. “Now get your coat.” Miss Brown was sniffing into a handkerchief in the corner.
“Oh, Mr. Doodle,” she wailed, “why did you do it?”
Higgins smiled sardonically.
“So you’re innocent, eh? You’d better start talking, Doodle. Where’s the money?”
“I don’t know,” Oscar said wildly. “I haven’t got it.”
“Then where did you hide it?”
“I didn’t hide it,” Oscar cried. He looked entreatingly at the grim circle of faces. “You’ve got to believe me.”
“All right,” Higgins said, “you’re going to be tough. We can play that game, too. Get your coat and don’t make me ask you again.”
Oscar staggered to his feet and put on his coat.
“This is all a mistake,” he bleated. “Sure,” Higgins said, “and you made it.”
Miss Brown caught his arm as he walked to the door.
“I’ll come and see you, Mr. Doodle.” Oscar swallowed and walked through the door, too dazed to answer. He wondered vaguely if Alcatraz was air-conditioned in the summertime.
Chapter IV
Oscar sat in a small grim cell with his head buried in his hands. This was his blackest hour. Three witnesses from the bank had just left, after testifying with some reluctance that they had seen Oscar the previous afternoon cram cash into a black leather bag before leaving for the day.
The case against him was air-tight. He was doomed unless he could, somehow, find his impersonator and make him return the money. Oscar raised his head and stared gloomily at the solid bars of his cell. There was no chance of getting out of this place, and unless he did, there was no chance of ever proving himself innocent.
He sighed and dropped his head back to his hands. A few minutes later, he heard a footstep outside the cell. He looked up and saw Higgins, the detective, standing outside the cell, hands in his pockets and a large cigar in his mouth.
“Still ain’t talking, eh?” Higgins murmured.
“I tell you I’ve got nothing to tell,” Oscar said. “I didn’t steal the money, so I don’t know where it’s hidden.”
Higgins took the cigar from his mouth and stared reflectively at its glowing tip.
“I’ll be frank with you, Doodle,” he said, “you haven’t got a chance of escaping conviction with your yam. The judge will instruct the jury to convict and that means your worries will be over for the next few dozen years. But a conviction like that doesn’t do us any good. We want the money. The insurance company is already raising hell with the chief. They want the money and they don’t give a damn about the thief.” Higgins leaned closer and blew a slow smoke ring into Oscar’s cell. “Now if you play ball with me, give the tip on where the stuff is hidden, I’ll see to it that the judge goes light on you. You’ll be a free man in a few years. But,” he shrugged, “if you don’t want to talk we’ll make it as tough on you as we can. We’ll try you for everything on the book and give you life. Now what do you say?”
Oscar swallowed miserably.
“What can I say? You won’t believe me when I tell you I didn’t take the money. You won’t believe me when I tell you I don’t know where it’s hidden. But I am telling the truth.”
“Okay,” Higgins’ face hardened. “Play it your way, Doodle, but don’t expect any favors from now on.”
He turned and strode down the corridor. Oscar stretched out on the cot and stared despairingly at the ceiling. He was through for good.
A few minutes later, there was a light tap of feminine heels on the floor, and when he looked up his secretary, Miss Brown, was standing outside his cell with a guard.
Oscar rose quickly to his feet.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“I had to see you,” Miss Brown said. Her pretty face was worried. “You aren’t angry at me for coming, are you?”
“No, not at all,” Oscar said. He felt very glad that she had come. It made him feel, somehow, less alone.
The guard opened the door and closed it when she stepped inside the cell.
“You got about six minutes,” he said and moved down the corridor.
Oscar led Miss Brown to the cot and they sat down, hands clasped together.
“Now tell me why you came, Miss Brown,” Oscar said.
“I know you aren’t guilty, and you can call me Betty,” Miss Brown said, on one breath.
“Thank you — Betty,” Oscar said, rather hesitantly, and then the full impact of her words hit him. He grabbed her shoulders tightly. “You what?”
“I know you aren’t guilty,” Miss Brown spoke in a tense, conspiratorial whisper. “I didn’t realize it until after you’d gone. But that man who worked at the bank yesterday wasn’t you. I know that for certain.”
Oscar felt a flood of relief that left him weak and shaky.
“How did you know?” he asked eagerly.
“Well,” Miss Brown dimpled, “he tried to kiss me.”
“Oh,” Oscar said flatly. He looked at Miss Brown and saw that she was pretty in a soft, pleasant sort of way. And her eyes were a fascinating shade of blue. “What makes you sure I wouldn’t try to kiss you?” he asked moodily.
“Oh, I just know,” Miss Brown said, “and I wanted to tell you I’m going to do everything I can to help prove your innocence.”