Midnight Part 31

"I can't help it. It isn't my fault. And if I was sure that Naomi Lawrence was the woman in that taxi, I'd arrest her immediately. But I'm not sure, Leverage--and neither are you. Let's admit that it's a ten to one bet--we're still not positive. And I wonder if you realize what her arrest would mean?"

"What?"

"We can't arrest a woman of her prominence socially without a reason--and a darned good reason. Therefore, when we arrest her we have to tell the public why we're doing it. And what do we tell 'em? That she was--or might have become--Warren's light-o'-love! That she was going to elope with him!"

"And yet, David--all of that is probably true."

"Probably--yes. But not positively. We haven't proved anything. And once we explode that social bomb--we've started something that she'll never live down. We've done more than that--we've played the devil with Evelyn's chance of happiness. That kid will be in a swell position when the scandal-mongers get hold of the gossip about her sister. Can't you hear 'em--babbling about it being in the blood?"

"But she might prove that none of it is true."

"That doesn't make a bit of difference. Gossip pays no attention to a refutation. Leave consideration for Mrs. Lawrence out of it altogether--and figure where Evelyn comes in on the backwash."

"It _is_ tough. But this is a murder case--and, anyway, I don't think she killed Warren."

"Even if she didn't--I fancy she'd rather be convicted of murder--than of what this will lead to. I'm afraid, Leverage. We're trifling with something a good deal more sacred than human life. If Naomi Lawrence is guilty--there's no objection to her suffering. But her kid sister will suffer too--"

"You don't think, Carroll--that she looked like that kind?"

"Good G.o.d! _no!_ And even if we prove that she was the woman in the taxicab--that she was going to elope with Warren--it still won't prove that she was that kind. There's something about that husband of hers--meet him, Leverage--meet him! That's the only way you'll have any understanding of my sympathy for the wife."

Leverage rose and walked to the window. He spoke without turning, "Tough--David; mighty tough. And we've got to do something."

No answer. Carroll had lighted a cigarette and was puffing fiercely upon it. Leverage spoke again softly--

"Haven't we?"

"I suppose we have--"

"Well?"

Another long silence. "Isn't there anything we can do, Eric--before we start something that no human power can stop? Something to make us sure--to give us a clincher? That's all I ask. You say I'm cursed with too much of the milk of human kindness. Perhaps I am--perhaps that's what makes me no better detective than I am--but it's a trait--good or bad--that I'll never get over. And until every possible doubt as to that woman's complicity has been removed, I am opposed to any such course as arrest and public announcement of the reasons therefor."

Leverage shook his head. He was disappointed in his friend. Not that Carroll would flinch from duty--but Leverage considered it a weakness that Carroll insisted on postponing the inevitable. He was sorry--he knew that it had to come: Naomi's arrest and the consequent nasty publicity.

His manner, as he addressed Carroll, was that of a man who washes his hands of something--

"It's your case, David. Handle it your own way. That's been our agreement always when we worked together--and I'm game to stick to it now."

Carroll flushed. "Yet you're disappointed in me?"

"A little--yes," said Leverage honestly. "But I've been disappointed in you before, David--and you've always made me sorry for it. I know you won't throw me down this time. You've never done it yet."

"You're safe!" said Carroll grimly. "No--" as Leverage started for the door; "Don't go! I want to think for a minute--"

Leverage sank obediently into a chair. Carroll paced the room slowly. He was thinking--struggling to decide upon a plan of action which would delay the arrest of Naomi Lawrence until the ultimate moment. And finally he flung back his head triumphantly. Leverage looked up with pleasure at the sound of relief in his friend's voice--

"Leverage?"

"Yes?"

"You say this case is mine--absolutely? To handle as I see fit?"

"Yes."

"You agree that we have enough against William Barker to arrest him?"

"Gosh--I said that the first day we met him."

"You also agree that he knows whatever connection the Lawrences have with the Warren murder?"

"I do."

"Then get Barker. Bring him here!"

Leverage departed with a light step. There was a smile on his lips. Here was the style of procedure with which he was familiar and in full sympathy. Here was action supplanting stagnation--something definite succeeding the long nerve-wracking period of conjecture which appeared to lead nowhere save into a labyrinth of endless discussion.

He started the machinery of the department to moving. When he returned to his office an hour later, Carroll was still seated motionlessly before the grate fire--an extinguished cigar between his teeth--eyes focused intently on the dancing flames. Leverage spoke--

"I've got Barker."

"Where is he?"

"Downstairs."

"Bring him in. You stay here when he comes--send everybody else out."

Cartwright brought Barker into the room and Leverage dismissed the plainclothesman. Barker, eyes wide with fear, face pallid--yet with a certain belligerence in his att.i.tude--confronted the two detectives.

"I say--" he started, "what does this mean?"

"It means," said Carroll coldly, "that you are under arrest for the murder of Roland Warren!"

"That I'm--" Barker fell back a step. It was plain that he was surprised.

"You're arresting _me_ for Warren's murder?"

"Yes."

"But I didn't do it. I'll swear I didn't."

"Of course you'll swear it--" Carroll's steely voice excited a vast admiration in Leverage's breast. Many times before he had seen the transformation in his friend from all too human softness to almost inhuman coldness--yet he never failed of surprise at the phenomenon.

"But we know you did do it."

"You don't know nothin' of the kind," Barker's voice came in a half-snarl. "I don't give a d.a.m.n how smart you fly-cops are--you can't prove nothin' on me."

"That so?"

"Yes--that's so. Just because I worked for Warren ain't no reason why you should arrest me for his murder. Suppose I had wanted to kill him--and I didn't--didn't have no reason at all. But suppose I had wanted too--you know b.l.o.o.d.y well that I didn't do it."