would concentrate on that point. No, we’d better wait awhile and see what develops.”
Something “developed” at once. Swacker entered and informed the sergeant that Snitkin wanted to see him immediately.
Snitkin came in, visibly agitated, accompanied by a wizened, shabbily dressed little man of about sixty, who appeared awed and terrified. In the detective’s hand was a small parcel wrapped in newspaper, which he laid on the district attorney’s desk with an air of triumph.
“The Canary’s jewelry,” he announced. “I’ve checked it up from the list the maid gave me, and it’s all there.”
Heath sprang forward, but Markham was already untying the package with nervous fingers. When the paper had been opened, there lay before us a small heap of dazzling trinkets—several rings of exquisite workmanship, three magnificent bracelets, a sparkling sunburst, and a delicately wrought lorgnette. The stones were all large and of unconventional cut.
Markham looked up from them inquisitively, and Snitkin, not waiting for the inevitable question, explained.
“This man Potts found ’em. He’s a street cleaner, and he says they were in one of the D. S. C. cans at 23d Street near the Flatiron Building. He found ’em yesterday afternoon, so he says, and took ’em home. Then he got scared and brought ’em to Police Headquarters this morning.”
Mr. Potts, the “white-wing,” was trembling visibly.
“Thass right, sir—thass right,” he assured Markham, with frightened eagerness. “I allus look into any bundles I find. I didn’t mean no harm takin’ ’em home, sir. I wasn’t gonna keep ’em. I laid awake worryin’ all night, an’ this mornin’, as soon as I got a chance, I took ’em to the p’lice.” He shook so violently I was afraid he was going to break down completely.
“That’s all right, Potts,” Markham told him in a kindly voice. Then to Snitkin: “Let the man go—only get his full name and address.”
Vance had been studying the newspaper in which the jewels had been wrapped.
“I say, my man,” he asked, “is this the original paper you found them in?”
“Yes, sir—the same. I ain’t touched nothin’.”
“Right-o.”
Mr. Potts, greatly relieved, shambled out, followed by Snitkin.
“The Flatiron Building is directly across Madison Square from the Stuyvesant Club,” observed Markham, frowning.
“So it is.” Vance then pointed to the left-hand margin of the newspaper that held the jewels. “And you’ll notice that this Herald of yesterday has three punctures evidently made by the pins of a wooden holder such as is generally used in a club’s reading room.”
“You got a good eye, Mr. Vance.” Heath nodded, inspecting the newspaper.
“I’ll see about this.” Markham viciously pressed a button. “They keep their papers on file for a week at the Stuyvesant Club.”
When Swacker appeared, he asked that the club’s steward be got immediately on the telephone. After a short delay, the connection was made. At the end of five minutes’ conversation Markham hung up the receiver and gave Heath a baffled look.
“The club takes two Heralds. Both of yesterday’s copies are there, on the rack.”
“Didn’t Cleaver once tell us he read nothing but The Herald—that and some racing sheet at night?” Vance put the question offhandedly.
“I believe he did.” Markham considered the suggestion. “Still, both the club Heralds are accounted for.” He turned to Heath. “When you were checking up on Mannix, did you find out what clubs he belonged to?”
“Sure.” The sergeant took out his notebook and riffled the pages for a minute or two. “He’s a member of the Furriers’ and the Cosmopolis.”
Markham pushed the telephone toward him.
“See what you can find out.”
Heath was fifteen minutes at the task. “A blank,” he announced finally. “The Furriers’ don’t use holders, and the Cosmopolis don’t keep any back numbers.”
“What about Mr. Skeel’s clubs, Sergeant?” asked Vance, smiling.
“Oh, I know the finding of that jewelry gums up my theory about Skeel,” said Heath, with surly ill nature. “But what’s the good of rubbing it in? Still, if you think I’m going to give that bird a clean bill of health just because the Odell swag was found in a trashcan, you’re mighty mistaken. Don’t forget we’re watching the Dude pretty close. He may have got leery, and tipped off some pal he’d cached the jewels with.”
“I rather fancy the experienced Skeel would have turned his booty over to a professional receiver. But even had he passed it on to a friend, would this friend have been likely to throw it away because Skeel was worried?”
“Maybe not. But there’s some explanation for those jewels being found, and when we get hold of it, it won’t eliminate Skeel.”
“No; the explanation won’t eliminate Skeel,” said Vance; “but—my word!—how it’ll change his locus standi.”
Heath contemplated him with shrewdly appraising eyes. Something in Vance’s tone had apparently piqued his curiosity and set him to wondering. Vance had too often been right in his diagnoses of persons and things for the sergeant to ignore his opinions wholly.
But before he could answer, Swacker stepped alertly into the room, his eyes animated.
“Tony Skeel’s on the wire, Chief, and wants to speak to you.”
Markham, despite his habitual reserve, gave a start. “Here, Sergeant,” he said quickly. “Take that extension phone on the table and listen in.” He nodded curtly to Swacker, who disappeared to make the connection. Then he took up the receiver of his own telephone and spoke to Skeel.
For a minute or so he listened. Then, after a brief argument, he concurred with some suggestion that had evidently been made; and the conversation ended.
“Skeel craves an audience, I gather,” said Vance. “I’ve rather been expecting it, y’ know.”
“Yes. He’s coming here tomorrow at ten.”
“And he hinted that he knew who slew the Canary—eh, what?”
“That’s just what he did say. He promised to tell me the whole story tomorrow morning.”
“He’s the lad that’s in a position to do it,” murmured Vance.
“But, Mr. Markham,” said Heath, who still sat with his hand on the telephone, gazing at the instrument with dazed incredulity, “I don’t see why you don’t have him brought here today.”
“As you heard, Sergeant, Skeel insisted on tomorrow and threatened to say nothing if I forced the issue. It’s just as well not to antagonize him. We might spoil a good chance of getting some light on this case if I ordered him
